Bubblegum Cherry Pie
by Brookebynature
Summary: All Lucas Scott has ever known is pushy parenting and false appearances. Joining the school basketball team, he meets fun loving cheerleader Brooke. Catapulted into her world of skipping class and midnight sleepovers, Lucas learns what it means to live.BL
1. Blue Raspberries

**Author- **Emily-Grace Mendes (brookebynature)

**Disclaimer- **I don't own any of the characters, but for once I am proud to say that I thought of this title all by myself! Hard to believe I know, since I seem to steal every title from songs, but there you go...

**A/N- **I've had this idea for a while now, so I've waited until one of my old stories was complete before I began, and this is what I've come up with. For probably the first time ever, I've written the end of this story, so I do know (roughly) what's going to happen, although I'm always open to suggestions :)

Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review at the end!

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 1: Blue Raspberries

His room has been painted the same dull blue for as long as Lucas Scott can remember. He's always liked the colour, whether it was cars, clothes or indeed the colour of a wall, the colour blue had always struck him as eye-catching, noticeable, interesting. But he's stared at these walls for too long, and the appeal of the colour blue is beginning to wear off.

He can hear everything in that room, from the conversations his Mother and Uncle Keith have about him not focusing on his school work enough, to the drunken snoring of the two of them after yet another night dining out at some over-priced restaurant. Then there are also the (unfortunate) times that Lucas can hear the grunting and moans of pleasure from the room next door (his parents' room non-the-less) that he tries his best to block out by reciting poetry or a section of a John Steinbeck novel silently to himself.

Conversation isn't something that takes place regularly for Lucas: a conversation with Karen (his Mom) usually results in her asking him to speak a little less, and study a little bit more, and conversations with Keith (his Uncle who is, in a fashion, trying to do his best by his nephew) usually result in Lucas feeling even more pressure to gain straight A's.

There is one place he can go though, the place he _needs _to be able to escape his own thoughts and schoolwork. It's Lucas' Haven, his safe place, and right now, he's hugely grateful that both his Mom and Uncle haven't yet discovered the River Court.

He does have friends (of sorts) there, people his own age he can talk to about something other than the French Revolution, or why the Tectonic Plates cause earthquakes.

Basketball was, and is, the one part of Lucas' existence that he enjoys, and the company of the local players Skillz, Junk, Fergie and Mouth (all nicknames of course-Lucas isn't even sure he knows their real names) give him an outlet for whatever it is that he channels into his schoolwork during the week.

"They having try-outs for the school team Luke." Skillz tells him, just as he's about to shoot a three-pointer. The ball misses of course, bouncing its way to the grass at the side of the concrete court.

"They having try-outs, and you go and miss."

"Why'd you tell me?" Lucas asks, retrieving the ball without a backwards glance to the boy his own age, waiting for a better response than he was given. School is a place that Lucas hates, mainly because he feels like he doesn't fit in. The truth is, that he fits in so much, he's barely noticed among his peers, perhaps another reason why Tree Hill High is never high on his topics-to-discuss-with-the-guys list.

"Cos you good. And we need someone who can actually score."

"You have the best points score in the state." Lucas replies plainly. "It doesn't seem like you need me."

"Roberts transferred to some school in Charlotte. We're one down."

"So you're asking me?"

"I just thought you might be interested man." Skillz says, raising his hands in defence as he wonders whether the opportunity is just another lost cause on the boy he's never understood. "And you the best we have round here."

"I thought we were tight man!" Fergie shous from the picnic bench, laughing a little as Lucas squints his eyes, releasing the ball in professional-mode, trying his best not to act like he's interested.

"So what'dya say Luke? Try-outs tomorrow."

Bouncing the ball a final time for that night, Lucas aims once more at the backboard, a blur of orange bouncing off before dropping straight through the net.

"No thanks."

----

Round about this time of night, when Lucas lays in bed, starched white sheets wrapped tightly around his naked torso, he recites some form of literature to himself (silently of course) in order to block out whatever he can hear from the room next door. He's tried too many times to count tonight, and nothing has worked to keep his mind off of basketball, not even reading 'The Winter Of Our Discontent' has been enough to suffice. Try-outs are tomorrow, and Lucas has to fight desperately against himself to keep from believing that he actually wants to attend.

And when morning finally comes, after too many hours of consciousness, Lucas can think of nothing but basketball. His parents weren't going to like it if they found out, in fact, he'd most definitely be grounded. But that's the beauty of only seconds of conversation in the place he calls home: they would never even ask.

The gymnasium is too noisy when Lucas enters, the harsh reality of the reason why he's here hitting him like a slap across the face. The lighting seems brighter than it has done any time he's ever attended gym class, and the uniforms of the cheerleaders seem shorter, more provocative, even less like clothing a girl he could ever like enough to date would wear. New situations were never Lucas' strong point, and adjusting the bag on his shoulder containing the basketball jersey and shorts, he turns, his posture untidy as he begins in haste to exit the gymnasium he's barely spent a minute surveying.

"Leaving so soon?"

The raspy voice belongs to someone Lucas hasn't ever talked to before, and as he cranes his head to see, the body he's met with is more than an unfamiliar sight.

"I never even got a chance to ask your name."

Her eyes are brown, twinkling, her dimples etched into the side of her face like they've been sculpted by some kind of artistic genius.

"Lucas Scott."

His voice is shaky and uneven, a perfect match for the way he's feeling right now as the girl before him widenes her smile just that little bit more.

"So you're quitting before you've even given this a shot?" She cocks an eyebrow, her appeal broadening just as a very nervous Lucas shakes his head.

"No I um…was just going to look around first."

"Yeah, and I'm not a cheerleader." She replies, rolling her eyes at the clueless boy before her. She's no comedian and Lucas doesn't see the funny side, or whether this is even a joke. He's definitely more nervous than any other guy she's ever met, and the outfit he's wearing clearly tells her that he isn't in the popular circle-the one she'd become a part of many years ago. But he's kind of cute, in a book-_ish _sort of way, and there's something about his eyes…

"You're not?"

"It was a joke." She giggles a little. "It was meant to make you less serious."

"Oh."

His examination of her body is interrupted by the coach, Whitey, who calls all guys to the middle of the court, and orders all cheerleaders to resume their practise somewhere they wouldn't be able to distract the prospective players. His instructions are probably falling on deaf ears, Lucas figures. He's not going to be able to think of anything other than this girl anyway.

"When I call your name, dribble to the three-point line and then shoot." He instructs, a clipboard in one hand, whistle poised before his lips in the other.

Lucas can't remember a time when his heart had banged in his ears so loudly, other than when he'd returned home from his first and only ever detention, for failing to hand in the English assignment he'd lost somewhere along the way to school.

"Lucas Scott."

It's his turn, and taking the ball, he casts a glance to the stunning brunette he'd been chatting to only moments ago. She gives him a small smile of encouragement, ruffling her pom poms as Lucas turns his attentions back to the ball.

It misses, and only quick thinking saves him from being laughed out of the gymnasium doors. He has just enough pace to catch the rebound, and the cheers of approval from the squad of girls by the net cause a small smile to play across Lucas' lips.

"Justin Benson."

The glimmer of hope Lucas held disappears in that moment, the smile dropping instantly as he rejoins the other guys vying for the one place. Suddenly what had seemed so insignificant to Lucas only a day ago, matters more than anything ever has.

----

The rest of try-outs consist of lay-up drills, demonstrations of different plays before the new hopefuls get their chance to be part of 'blue play' or whatever their name has been assigned to.

"Scott." Whitey calls, looking directly at Lucas, but having never once been called by his surname before, he fails to respond, focusing instead on the beautiful girl demonstrating some move to the rest of her attentive squad. If that one shot had been his chance, Lucas had most certainly blown it with this girl. Only the blocking of his view arouses him from his self-pity.

"Here." He catches the ball, blinking in surprise. "Dribble to the three point line and shoot."

Lucas does as he was instructed, biting his lower lip just as the blur of orange swishes its way through the net. Jogging back to Whitey, he looks up hopefully, not even sure what he wants the coach to say.

"If you make the team, don't let me catch you staring that way again. They've ruined too many good players, and I don't want to loose another one."

_It wasn't that. _

After being told that the list of players for the next game would be posted on the notice board in two days time, the boys are dismissed, and Lucas, with new-found confidence after Whitey's comment, shouts to the girl disappearing into the ladies' locker room.

"You didn't tell me your name."

Smiling a little, she leans up towards the blonde-haired boy standing innocently before her.

"You didn't ask."

He watches her walk away, even the back of her more beautiful and perfectly-sculpted than he'd ever imagined a girl could be. And as Lucas makes his exit from the gym, contemplating which lie to tell his parents in the unlikely event that they ask how his day has been, and what he has accomplished.

If basketball is his ticket to knowing the pretty girl's name, then Lucas is damned if he doesn't get the spot on the team. Guys kill for opportunities like this one, and he can only pray that in two days, it will be his name at the bottom of that list.

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Please review xxx 


	2. Strawberry Lipgloss

**A/N- **I just wanted to say an absolutely HUGE thank you to every single person who reviewed last chapter. And hurray! I finally suceeded in thinking of an interesting story title :)

Hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 2: Strawberry Lipgloss

It's his first port of call that morning, before his locker, before the library, before the coffee machine in the cafeteria, and the name on the list is the one he'd prayed all night for.

_Tree Hill Ravens V Bear Creek Warriors_

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**Lucas Scott**

His face tells the guys waiting behind him everything they need to know, and sloping off, they leave Lucas to revel in his new place in high school society. Basketball jock.

"So I guess I didn't totally ruin your chances the other day then?"

Lucas turns around, knowing exactly who the voice belongs to this time. He'd memorised it and everything he'd forced himself to remember about the pretty girl was just as perfect as it had been the other day.

"I guess not." Lucas replies with a smug smile, new-found confidence taking over him as she adjusts the tiny skirt she's wearing, most definitely for his benefit.

"Brooke Davis." She raises an eyebrow, perhaps signalling for further conversation. "Captain of the cheer squad."

Lucas simply nods, not knowing quite what to say next. He wonders what the other members of the team do when approached by such beautiful girls showing way more skin than could ever be deemed appropriate for the school environment. Perhaps they make playful comments, asking for meetings after school or dates for the next social event. Perhaps they whisper naughty things into their ears, accompanied by suggestive lip or hand action. Perhaps they simply just ignore these girls, although Lucas doesn't know how this could ever be possible.

"You don't say much." She muses, taking the opportunity to say anything away from him anyway.

Lucas shrugs, buying himself even more time with the pretty girl while he tries desperately to think of something cool to say.

"I try and only say things if they're meaningful."

"Are you saying I talk crap?" She pouts, a hand wandering to her hip where it rests, inching up the shirt she's wearing just to expose a little more toned tanned flesh.

"No I didn't mean that."

"So say something meaningful to me." Brooke moves a little closer, flicking the hair out of her eyes as she searches for something within Lucas to exploit.

And she's found it as his cheeks flush and he dips his head as if to avoid the spotlight she's shining on him.

But the bell rings there and then, and Lucas is saved, if only for a little while.

"Hold that thought." She whispers with a small lingering kiss on his hot cheek, the place where his skin is feeling like it might melt as he watches her walk away, the short skirt flicking up at each side as Brooke's hips sway exaggeratedly.

Lucas is almost too flustered to attend English, but it's his favourite class, so he makes his way up the corridor in the same direction of which Brooke had disappeared in a sea of student bodies, all ignoring his giddy smile and goofy expression.

----

"Come with me." She whirls around during History, (her least favourite class, his second favourite) eyes widening as his simply narrow in confusion.

"Excuse me?"

"I'm bored. Let's get out of here."

Lucas simply sits tight in his seat, adjusting his posture uncomfortably. "We're in the middle of class."

"So?" Brooke whispers back, shrugging her shoulders before extending her hand.

"Yes Miss Davis?"

"Sir, I think I need to go see the nurse."

"And why is that?" The teacher asks sarcastically, wise to Brooke's flirtatious and wildly inappropriate behaviour.

"I have cramps, you know, time of the month and all that crap."

"Um…" He pauses, flushing, searching for the permission slip in his desk drawer while other members of the class snigger. He holds it out, and she hops up, kinking an eyebrow at Lucas before disappearing out of the door, leaving him with the sound of her heels clacking down the hallway.

He tries not to think about her and focus instead, on the task at hand: the Vietnam War. But it's no use because everything about Brooke Davis occupies his busy mind. There's no point to skipping school, Lucas has always maintained that belief. He came here to learn and nobody was going to take that away from him. Graduating is Lucas' ticket to escaping this town, but suddenly the enticing brunette seems more appealing.

"Sir can I please use the bathroom?" He asks with an extended hand and a flushed face.

It's no trouble for one of the teacher's most promising students, and Lucas is granted a hall pass with no further questions asked. He's trusted by many members of staff, and what was once a hindrance to his social life has now become a help, a way forward.

He can see a small piece of material poking out from Brooke's hiding place, way down at the end of the long hallway that seems never ending as Lucas practically tiptoes his way towards her, heart pounding as he feels his palms getting more clammy.

"So do you come here often?" She giggles, dangling a pair of car keys in front of Lucas' anxious face. He has no plans to leave this school, yet he knows she'll try and make him. She might be unpredictable but Lucas can work this one out.

"What do you want from me?" He asks, no small talk, no heated banter as he steps to the other side of her, away from the view of any lurking teachers.

"I want what every girl wants." She tells him, biting down lightly on her bottom lip as her fingers graze over his shirt.

"Look, I have to get back to class."

"C'mon," She smiles, undeterred. "let's go to the beach."

"Brooke we're supposed to be in history right now. Besides, I have basketball practise after school."

"So I'll get you back for then."

He shakes his head, wanting more than anything to go with her. But he doesn't know her, she doesn't know him and there are too many underlying issues for the two of them to ever communicate effectively. So Lucas simply offers her a sad smile.

"Too bad." She shrugs. "I've heard I'm a lot of fun."

Lucas laughs nervously, silently agreeing because he knows more than anything the fun he could have with Brooke Davis if he allowed himself to. Perhaps he's just not used to the wave of emotions flooding his head, and when she gives him a cheeky wink before walking away without a backwards glance Lucas is almost sure he might die.

----

It's the end of basketball practise when he sees her again, cheerleading uniform on, hair pinned back in a messy bun that makes her face look even more beautiful than it did hours ago. She's been at the beach, he can tell. She has a golden tan to her, exposing freckles across her nose, and it's when Lucas notices a slight patch of sunburn that he realises he's been staring.

But she's caught his blue eyes with her brown ones, and she's across the gymnasium quicker than Lucas can scarper out of there.

"Take me." She tells him, in some sort of raspy whisper-voice that he hasn't ever heard her use before. Perhaps it's just because prior to a couple days ago, he hadn't ever looked up from his path or study book, let alone talked to cheer captain Brooke Davis.

He frowns and she elaborates, giggling. "There's a party at my friend Nathan's house. Take me there on Friday night."

"Um…"

"I live at 46 Lumina Avenue. Pick me up at eight."

He's about to protest, telling her that he has to work, and that he has too much homework due on Monday. But her lips are glossy and they smell like strawberries and the smile she's giving him, displaying those dimples he remembers from the first time they met (properly) means he couldn't do that even though he wants to.

"And don't stand me up." She calls back, her place in the centre of the squad resumed. "I hate guys that do that."

He smiles, walking back slowly to the locker room just in case his legs give in to that wobbly feeling and he crashes to the ground. It's not a date, Brooke never specified that. But it's the first time Lucas will ever take a girl out. And it's the thought of that strawberry lip gloss that keeps him going.

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Please review guys xxx


	3. Chocolate Swirls

**A/N- **Lots of love for everyone who reviewed last chapter, as always, I really appreciated them :) On with chapter 3 xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 3: Chocolate Swirls

It's Friday morning, he's awake and it's only five thirty. He's replaying everything Brooke had told him the other day about this party, and he finds himself out of bed and putting on jogging pants before he can even realise what his hands are doing. A morning run has never been out of the ordinary for Lucas, but today, his mind has a different route planned out, and, as everything the past few days have consisted of, a certain Brooke Davis is involved, her address spinning in his head like a tornado.

An ear up against the door of his Mom and Uncle Keith's bedroom is all it takes to know that they're asleep, unaware of their son's movements in the next room. A small smile of satisfaction crosses his lips (because he knows there can't be anything to avoid, not right now) and he shuts the door quietly behind him before planting the speaker in his ear, in a desperate bid to remove all thoughts of Brooke Davis from his head.

It's no use though, and his feet have found the road she lives on before his brain registers that Nathan lives in one of these houses, and _these _houses hold too many troubling thoughts.

_These_ houses are too spread out, (suburban bliss near the city) and each occupies a large amount of the ocean-front view that Lucas knows too many people would kill for. He's almost passed number 46 (Brooke's house nonetheless) but she calls to him and he knows he can't avoid her. He's not sure he could even if he tried.

"Lucas Scott." She smiles, lean legs resting on the steps of her porch as she stretches out, smoothing the flimsy skirt with her fingers. She crosses her legs, the wind giving her skirt a helping hand on giving Lucas the view he hadn't even thought of until that moment.

He turns away, embarrassed, but Brooke gives him an innocent shrug. "It's not like you haven't seen it before."

She has on white silky panties, every inch of her legs toned to perfection. Lucas is appalled at what detail he can remember about a two-second showing of Brooke Davis' underwear and he tries to remove that picture from his head, cutting himself off from his Ipod at the same time.

"You're up a little early." He tells her, regaining lost breath as quickly as she can take it out of him.

"So are you."

"I couldn't sleep." Lucas isn't sure why he's divulging this information, but he is all the same, and Brooke's offer of a seat next to her is his reward.

"Me either. I love Summer mornings like this."

Lucas follows her gaze up to the cloudless sky, the sun not yet fully-risen as the soft sea-breeze floats over them, reminding him that he's a little _cold_. It's one of those odd mornings where the air is already hot and the birds are singing long before they should be. He wonders whether this is a warning for something, an indication perhaps, but maybe he's just being pedantic. All accompanying thoughts are quickly shrugged away before Lucas can work out what they were going to be, and when he gathers all concentration, he realises that Brooke is looking at him.

"You know, you're always brooding."

"I'm what?"

"Brooding. You're a brooder. You're broody."

"I'm broody?" Lucas asks, slightly confused, yet at the same time knowing exactly how she must have arrived at this such conclusion.

"Yeah, you know, you look all distant and philosophical for a few seconds until something snaps you out of whatever you're thinking about."

"Oh."

"Was it me?" She asks, following this question with a laugh that tells Lucas he doesn't have to answer. It's not a mocking laugh, she's just laughing at herself, and Lucas' own lips curve into the smallest of smiles at the sound of that raspy giggle filling his ears.

He's relieved she has no idea that every waking thought involves her, and that even when he's asleep, dreams include cheerleading and strawberry lip gloss and the kind of behaviour he's been accustomed to seeing from her over the past week.

They've been mere acquaintances for seven days and Lucas can't think of anything but her. He's smiling, she has no idea and he knows it's all for the best. He silently tells himself that his name doesn't sound right with hers anyway.

"I should really go." He tells her, sad smile for the interruption of momentary happiness, but he knows it's better this way. He doesn't want to know what might happen if he stays. School is different for him than it is for her, he gets that, she knows it too. She's just too polite to mention it.

"Okay."

"I'll see you at school?"

It comes out as a question, because he knows they're not friends. They talk (on her say-so) and she flirts (maybe she does that with everyone, he doesn't blame her) but that doesn't constitute a friendship. He hasn't mentioned her to any of the guys at the river court and he doubts it's any different at her end.

"You bet gorgeous." Brooke winks, a seductive smile playing across her lips as he forces himself up off of her porch. He's still uneasy being here, Nathan's house is just down the street and he doesn't want her to have to witness that.

A hasty "See you" is all he can manage before jogging down the street, head down, earphones in so that he has a chance of escaping any thoughts.

----

He wonders how her hair will be. He wonders what she'll be wearing. He wonders what underwear she might be wearing. He then wonders whether she'll be wearing any. A quick splash of water across his face is enough to remove any of these thoughts, and as he slips the blue shirt on, (he's not sure if this is the right attire for tonight's party, but then he hasn't ever been to one of these things anyway) Lucas practises the one line he's willing himself to say on arrival at Brooke's house.

_You look beautiful._

Of course these words don't escape his lips, and when Brooke opens her front door, Lucas' breath is taken away. She's wearing blue (just like him) and the skirt above her knee is barely there. Her stomach is exposed, as is most of her chest (but not in a bad way) and every curl of her hair is like a chocolate swirl.

"Hey." He breathes, a hand running through his hair as she flashes a dimpled smile his way.

"Hey gorgeous."

It's the same term of endearment from earlier, and Lucas finds himself excited by the mere thought of Brooke Davis saying more words like that to him.

"You ready?" He asks. Stupid question really. Of course she is, she's locked her door and adjusted her outfit and slicked on a coat of lip gloss all while he was fantasizing about prospective words she might say to him.

"All set."

He always knew high school parties were wild, but nothing has prepared Lucas for this. Re-runs of American Pie and Road Trip and every other teen movie have taught him about underage sex and drugs and alcohol, but arriving at Nathan's house, he experiences it first-hand. And all Lucas wants to do is run as far away from there as he can.

"Beer?" Brooke asks him.

"No." Lucas' quick reply startles her and when he realises the confusion on her face, and what he's supposed to do (not what he _should _do) he changes his mind. "I mean yeah. Thanks."

Brooke smiles, dimples on display, but that look of slight confusion is still there. It's becoming a permanent fixture now, and as much as she finds it weird, Brooke doesn't let on. She's anxious and intrigued and desperate to find out what it is about this Lucas guy that makes her hot and dizzy and nervous all at the same time. The feeling is better than any drug she's ever taken before and as she looks back, one eyebrow raised suggestively, he still offers her that shy smile she's now become accustomed to.

"What are you doing here?" Lucas hears spoken roughly into his ear, and it doesn't take longer than two seconds to work out who it belongs to. "You know my dad would throw you out if he found you here."

"I was invited." Lucas replies, keeping his back to Nathan, who casually sips on a bottle just as his best friend (and annoyingly stupid sidekick) Tim walks past.

"By who?"

"Hey gorgeous." His nickname has stuck, and Lucas finds an excited smile creeping across his lips. Nathan's question needs no answering and he simply walks away as his brother is handed a beer by one of his best friends. Lucas needs no introduction to the brother who's left to live the life his father has always wanted for him without the shadow of illegitimacy cast over the family. Brooke Davis is distraction enough anyway.

"What are you drinking?" Lucas asks, blue eyes wandering to the pretty girl's drink as she sips, and then gulps, biting her lower lip when finished.

"Tequila. You want some?"

He shakes his head no and Brooke just grabs his beer.

"Hey!"

"I'm thirsty." She shrugs laughing a little as she hands him back the half empty bottle. Alcohol has always been her strong point (his weakness, besides her now) and she adjusts her skirt slightly, ready to show him the rest of her.

"Dance with me." She tells him, no question, but an order.

"I don't think…"

"Please." Her brown eyes are staring up at his own, and Lucas can't help but agree as he feels his knees start to weaken beneath him.

Brooke Davis dances like no other. Lucas soon finds that out as she presses her tight body up against him, glossy lips parted (that same strawberry lip gloss from earlier painted across them) as she drapes an arm casually over his shoulder.

Lucas isn't quite sure what to do: this part wasn't in American Pie long enough for him to master the art of grinding, but he's sure that if the girl dancing with him has anything to do with it, he'll be an expert by the end of the night.

He feels like he's been pressed up against her hours, because everything in these few minutes has been heightened. Every swirl of chocolate hair is brushing against his neck and that smell of her lips only seems to be getting stronger. But Lucas knows it's only been minutes (the first song they danced to has only just stopped playing) and he's not sure how much more he can take.

----

She leaves him for a few minutes later on, and returns with something rolled up in a cigarette, laughing and tripping slightly as she stumbles her way towards him. She was drunk before she left anyway, but as she offers him a drag of whatever it is she's holding, Lucas shakes his head. He's gotten in way to far tonight, and he knows the only way things can go back to normal is if he leaves.

"Brooke, I have to go."

"What? No!" She slurs slightly, trying to hold onto him. "You can stay at mine."

This invitation is almost too tempting for the boy who hasn't ever seen more than Brooke's underwear but he declines with hushed whispers of 'maybe another time.'

"Stay with me. Please?"

"I have to go home." Lucas repeats. "But I could drop you off."

He's only had the one beer so he tells himself that driving is fine (it is anyway really) as he tries to pull away.

Brooke's grabbed his hand though now, lacing his fingers with hers and that tingling feels sends every particle of alcohol in that beer straight back to Lucas' head. He doesn't mind in the slightest though, because Brooke Davis is holding _his _hand. This feeling is contradicting everything he's forced himself to think, and Lucas knows it's no use willing it to go away. Brooke's everything he can't forget even if he tried.

"Would you?" She asks smiling, hand tugging at his playfully as she waves to some of her scantily clad friends. Lucas tries not to stare, and not to act smug. He fails at both and it's only Brooke that can get him out of there.

She shivers almost instantly in the cool night air, and not even American Pie has taught Lucas to offer her his jacket. He knows that anyway: manners and etiquette have never been a problem for Karen Roe's son and she's grateful (even in her drunken state) to have some warmth.

"Thanks." She whispers as he removes his hands from the soft skin on her shoulders, his jacket loosely across her frame.

The car ride is silent, partly because Brooke's too tired to speak, and partly because Lucas is making sure that every second spent not concentrating on the road, is in fact spent concentrating on the girl in the seat beside him.

He's kind of scared, she's never been this quiet before. Her eyes are starting to close: they're heavy and tired and making Lucas increasingly nervous the more their lids drop down.

"I'll walk you to your door." He tells her, his voice loud enough to arouse her from her drunken state, and even if her makeup is slightly smudged, she still looks more beautiful than any girl he's ever seen before.

"You don't have to. I can walk myself."

Brooke's voice is sleepy, and Lucas isn't taking any chances. He knows what will be waiting for him when he returns home, and the thought of that is making him want to crash out on whatever expensive couch Brooke has on display in her living room. But that would only make the punishment more severe, so he opens the passenger door and reaches for Brooke's tiny body.

Her eyes are narrowed as she looks at him, and a smile plays across her lips. "You're brooding right now. Broody."

"Really?" He asks, playing along with her little game as he scoops her up, raspy laughter filling his ears. It's the best reward for whatever punishment he might receive tonight (a night with Brooke Davis counts for more anyway) and that laughter only turns to giggling as he places her on the doorstep, fiddling for the spare key underneath the mat.

"How'd you know it was there?" She asks.

"Everybody keeps their spare key underneath their doormat. You should really get your parents to think of a safer place for it."

He's too busy unlocking the door to notice the girl beside him rolling her eyes, but she's pulling him to her in a moment of haste and drunken judgement.

His lips are almost on hers but Lucas pulls away quickly, blue eyes open as he watches her smiling face turn to disappointment and then anger. The door is shut in his face and all he can do is focus on the blur of red.

----

"You're grounded."

They're the first and only two words that Lucas is met with when he tiptoes through the backdoor, and his Mother and Uncle are gone upstairs before he can have time to respond.

Nothing but thoughts of Brooke Davis occupy his head, and not even pulling the sheets up over his whole body are enough to remove them. He's sure he's blown whatever it was between them tonight, but then he remembers his earlier thoughts.

Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott.

Their names don't sound right together anyway.

But every memory of strawberry lip gloss and chocolate swirls is clouding all rational judgement. Because those names are starting to sound like they've been created for use together.

Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott. Couple.

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Please review guys, I need to know your thoughts on whether this is too Brucas centred?

Gracias xxx


	4. Marshmallow Skies

**A/N- **Major thank you's to every person who reviewed last chapter, and also for the feedback on whether this is too Brucas centred. I've decided to keep them the definate focus of this story, but if anyone wants to know more about the other characters, please just let me know. With no further ado, on with the next chapter! xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 4: Marshmallow Skies

Lucas Scott has always loved weekends. He uses the time to read up on his favourite authors like John Steinbeck and William Blake, and play ball down at the River court, or even to simply just lay on his bed listening to music through the comforting earphones of his Ipod.

But this weekend, he's grounded. All he can do is think about Brooke and even reading or listening to music remind him of her. She's all he can think about, all he wants to think about and he's _fucking _grounded.

Friday night was worth it though (because she held his hand and got him beer and even tried to kiss him) and Lucas can only pray that Monday morning comes as fast as Friday night was over.

But then he remembers. He remembers the doorstep and that red door in his face and the sinking feeling in his stomach only worsens.

He's lucky to make it to the bathroom in time (Lucas never was one for being able to stomach alcohol) and his blue eyes burn as he shuts them against the cold white porcelain. Even now, even when he's emptying the whole contents of his stomach, Lucas is able to think about the girl who did this to him. He wonders, if she were here right now, whether she would rub his back for him, hands sliding in circular motion (as he would do for her nonetheless) as he could fall against her, throat sore and hands clammy.

But she's not here because he wouldn't kiss her last night. And all he can do is lean against the bathroom door and imagine that it's her.

----

It's been too long since Lucas Eugene Scott (Lucas because his Mom had always loved the name, Eugene because that's the name of his Uncle's Grandfather, Scott because she had no other option, not really under the circumstances of his conception) has wanted something.

When he was younger, it was to play basketball. As he grew a little older and wiser to his Father's incessant bullying, it was to live with his Mother. When he moved in with Karen and Keith, he stopped wanting anything.

But now, after spending too many (and not enough at the same time) hours with Brooke Davis, Lucas has found himself wanting not one, but two things. The first is basketball. It was his first love, the one he'd pushed to the back of his mind so as not to get disappointed when he didn't reach his dream. But it's there again. Driving him forward. He wants to be shooting balls through any net in any place at any time.

The second? Her. Brooke Davis. He wants her dimpled smile and her hazel eyes and every curve of her body that screams _beautiful _at him. He wants her mind and her humour and her excitement that are infectious, even when he's trying everything in his power to stop himself catching everything she emits. He wants to lay with her and read to her and let her teach him anything about her world.

He's been wishing for Monday morning all weekend, and now that it's here, after too many hours of silence from his parents and meals consisting of bread and water, (this wasn't a standard grounding) Lucas isn't sure whether he wants time to stop. Perhaps he doesn't want to face Brooke. Maybe he doesn't want to upset her or anger her or be as good as dirt to her.

Or maybe he's just blind scared.

----

"_Hi gorgeous." _

She's not really speaking to him. She catches his eye in history and turns away, laughing at some ridiculous comment made by her blonde sidekick. Lucas learned that her name is Peyton by listening out for whatever the two were talking about earlier.

So he's resorted to conversing with her in his head. He's told her that he's sorry for what happened between them on Friday night. He's sorry that he hasn't called or passed by on a morning run, but he's grounded. He's told her the whole story about his parents, and Dan Scott (his Father) and Nathan and why everything in his life is the way it is.

She responds with that dimpled smile he yearns to see, and a flick of her luscious hair-the same hair that he imagines to smell like cocoa as she adjusts her shirt, allowing him to see more of the chest that's packed underneath.

"_You're brooding, Broody." _

He's back in reality and her eyes are narrowed like she's searching him for something he doesn't know about, and when his eyes settle on the blank notepad in front of him only for a moment, he's able to sense that she's still staring at him.

It's making him uncomfortable and nervous and excited all at the same time. So when he brings his eyes to meet hers, Lucas is disappointed to find that she's facing the correct way once again, fluffy pink pen poised above her own notepad.

He shakes his head in a half-hearted attempt to remove all thoughts of Brooke. It doesn't work though, because when she reaches across her desk to pass some sort of note to Peyton, she exposes the tiniest amount of bare skin on her shoulder.

And Lucas is at a loss as to how to think about anything other than the lingerie she might be wearing underneath. He curses himself (silently of course) because before the other day, he would have never even thought about a girl's clothes, let alone Brooke Davis' underwear.

But there's something about her that's different. And Lucas isn't sure whether this is good for him.

----

It's midnight exactly when Lucas is aroused from an unpeaceful slumber that included Brooke Davis, a basketball game and her tiny cheerleading uniform. His eyes are scanning the room in a moment of worry that someone could be breaking in. They stop when they reach the window, and he sees the body of the goddess he's been dreaming about falling onto the hardwood floor in a heap.

"Brooke!?"

"Um hi." She smiles at him (he can see that, even in the dark) and Lucas finds his heart racing as she makes her way over to his bed.

"What are you…"

"I came to say sorry." She cuts in. "About today, I was a bitch."

He shakes his head no, gathering the sheets over his exposed chest.

"Don't cover up on my account." She giggles. "I was enjoying the view."

He grants her an uneasy smile, letting go of the sheets that form a cotton pool around his torso.

"It's midnight." Lucas tells her, frowning. "Why aren't you in bed?"

"I was at a party." She shrugs. "And I passed your house so I thought I'd drop by."

"At midnight?"

"I didn't realise you'd be asleep."

"And the whole house in darkness wasn't an instant giveaway?"

"Someone's cranky." She laughs lightly, undeterred in any way.

"No I'm just…surprised."

Lucas' blue eyes widen as he hears stirring from the room next door, followed by the creaking of a bedspring, signalling his Mom awake.

"Quick, hide." He hisses at Brooke, which is met only by giggling until she catches his expression, and does as he instructs.

"Lucas?" The door opens, flooding in the light from the hallway as Karen peers around her son's bedroom, missing the feet poking out from behind the drapes as Lucas lays still on the bed.

She's out of there as quickly as she came in, and Brooke doesn't emerge until she hears the door to what is obviously Lucas' parents' room close.

"Your Mom cracks the whip then huh?" She smiles, half her perfect face pocking out from behind the drapes, which Lucas can tell is smiling, even in the dark. He finds himself smiling too, because her word choice (probably less obvious to anyone else that isn't having his same thoughts) makes him think of deliciously naughty things.

"Something like that." He mumbles somewhat shyly as he flicks on his bedside lamp, instantly illuminating the blue room, making the two of them recoil at the same time.

It's now that he sees a bag of something in her hand, something she's clutching tightly until she spies his gaze, shaking the bag at him.

"I thought we could use a little midnight snack seeing as that's what people usually do at sleepovers."

"Sleepovers?" Lucas questions.

"Yeah you know, I stay the night and…sleep."

He feels his heart beating way too fast in his chest as Brooke raises a suggestive eyebrow just enough to make him want to act on everything he's feeling right now.

"I'm not sure my Mom would let you stay the night."

"It doesn't matter." Brooke shrugs. "We just won't tell her."

----

She's dressed in a pair of his sweat pants, which are clearly too large as they bunch around her waist, and she uses her left hand to hold them up each time she adjusts her position on Lucas' bed. On her top, his grey hoody- one that he doesn't wear often, usually just when he's working at his Uncle Keith's garage.

Her hair is tied loosely in a bun, messy strands framing her face as she giggles softly, handing Lucas a marshmallow from the open bag. He finds himself unable to stop watching the way she places each candy between her front teeth, nibbling quickly to begin with, until she grows tired of that, chewing the rest slowly.

Each time though, a smile of satisfaction finds its way to her lips, and Lucas just wishes that there was someone here right now (other than his parents of course) to witness the scene of events in his once silenced bedroom.

He hasn't let the small fact that he actually doesn't like marshmallows stand in the way of whatever this is right now. He's devouring his own share just as quickly as Brooke is with hers and Lucas can't imagine going to sleep any time soon.

"What are you thinking?" She whispers as they lay side by side on his bed, arms touching, hairs standing up on end as Brooke's raspy voice fills Lucas' ears.

"That my sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me."

She laughs lightly, and then he smells alcohol on her breath. He's not sure why he's surprised or worried or even at all bothered, but he is, and Lucas has to hide this behind his first false smile that evening.

"You know we have school in the morning." He reminds her. "Maybe we should get some sleep."

"Are you not enjoying my company?" Brooke pouts, puppy dog eyes at him as he shakes his head honestly.

"That's definitely not what I meant. But I have bio and double math. Kinds intense."

"Definitely intense." She agrees, rolling over so that she's only inches away from his face, his lips. All he can concentrate on is her glossy pout and the sparkles that have been painted on to make her look effortlessly sexy.

"So how about we skip school altogether? We could go to the beach or the mall or…"

"I can't." Lucas cuts in. "I'd like too."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I…" He begins, but then stops, realising that he might not want to give away such carefully guarded information, even if it is to Brooke Davis. "I just can't."

She gives up then, with a notion of there being something he's not telling her, and something that she now needs to discover about Lucas Scott.

So she just pulls up the covers, hiding both of their bodies under a sea of comforting cotton before planting a soft kiss on his unanticipating cheek.

"Goodnight Lucas." She whispers as his trembling hands turn out the light. He can't even find the words to reply, so instead, summons up every ounce of courage he has lying there, and gives her hand the most gentle of squeezes.

It might now be passionate, or a declaration of love or lust, but to Lucas, that feeling running through his body is ecstasy. And he can't let it end any time soon.

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Review please guys if you would :) xxx


	5. Cotton Candy

**A/N- **I can't tell you guys how much I appreciate every single one of your reviews, so major THANK YOU'S to everyone that reviewed last chapter, and I hope you enjoy this one :) xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 5: Cotton Candy

She's up to no good. It's taken Lucas all of two seconds to arrive at that conclusion by a single eyebrow raise from the object of his thoughts (day and night). It's history class, so naturally, she has to distract him. And he doesn't want to fight against her anyway.

He's beginning to notice things about her that he hopes nobody knows exist. Like the way she chews the end of her pen when she's asked a question by the teacher, and how every time she gets an answer right, a small excited smile runs across her lips, which she then plays down by biting her lower ever so lightly.

She extends her hand out behind her, slipping a folded note onto his desk with elegant precision.

_Dear Lucas._

_You're brooding. I'm bored. Let's get out of here._

_X_

He smiles, she raises her hand, and in an instant, Lucas knows he's following her wherever she might take him.

"Sir, may I please be excused to go to the nurses office?" Brooke asks sweetly, reaching out for the note with her other hand. Lucas helps her, moving it slowly forward until she can fold her fingers delicately around the edges.

"I thought your appointment wasn't until ten past Miss Davis?" The teacher questions, a sceptical cloud covering his face as Brooke shakes her head.

"No I said ten to."

The teacher, though consumed with doubt, has no real reason to pressure Brooke, and allows her to exit the classroom with a simple nod. Lucas smiles. She's obviously had this planned.

----

He can see her outside of the classroom window. She's stood beside her car: a powder blue beetle with it's top down, her hair blowing in the warm breeze. Lucas can't go yet though, it would look too obvious. He took a chance last week, and although getting away with it, he can't risk too much too soon.

So he turns his attentions back to his notepad, on which a few minor notes about American Independence day are written. The previous night takes over though, and everything he felt this morning comes rushing back.

Brooke wasn't there when he woke up. There was no note, not even any indication that she'd been there all night. His bed, where she had previously been laying, was straight, and the drapes were closed and unruffled. His heart had pounded, his eyes burned with tears of frustration that he had dreamed yet another vivid dream about Brooke Davis.

But then he'd seen the empty packet of marshmallows in the trash can. And that told him everything he needed to know.

His hand is extended, and as soon as the teacher looks his way, Lucas forces a deceiving smile across his face.

"Sir, may I please be excused to go to the bathroom?"

His wording is correct and polite, and just as he was the other week, Lucas is granted leave from the classroom. He's risen from his desk before realising that he still has his bag to account for.

Finding no excuse, Lucas simply grabs it, slinging it over one shoulder as he bundles a pen into his pocket, snatching the notepad to his chest.

"Mr Scott, if you are only going to the bathroom, why do you need to take your things?"

"I…um…" Lucas stutters, dipping his head as he throws the words "gotta go" at the teacher.

"Lucas Scott! Come back!"

It's no use though, because Brooke is way more tempting than the thought of avoiding detention and the wrath of his pushy parents are. So he continues down the hallway, running past the hall monitor and ignoring shouts from one of his favourite teachers.

Mr Rogers (his history teacher) isn't a patch on Brooke Davis.

----

"Tell me you just bailed." Brooke giggles as Lucas flings his bag and notes into her exposed backseat.

"I just bailed." He replies breathlessly, slamming the door behind him. "Drive."

Merely raising an eyebrow and letting a smirk form across her lips, Brooke does as the boy beside her instructs, and he soon realises her plans go further than just skipping school.

"Are you trying your best to get me into trouble?" He asks, a little scared as Brooke speeds up to the stop sign, before slamming on her breaks just in time to see the cop car cruise past on the other side of the road.

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know." Lucas shrugs. "But you take me to parties where I drink, underage, you come to my room at midnight, and you pass me notes in class, telling me to get out of there."

"You don't have to do everything I say." Brooke replies. "In fact. You don't have to do anything I say."

"Then tell me why I do."

Brooke moves a blowing strand of hair away from her eyes, turning her attention solely to him as she continues to drive at dangerous speeds now that the cops are out of sight.

"Because I'm good?"

Lucas doesn't know whether almost everything that comes out of Brooke Davis' mouth is supposed to have sexual innuendos, but it seems to him, like it does, and now, all he can think about is what she might look like in a bikini.

The sun is hot, the sky cloudless, the wind warm as Brooke parks up on a stretch of grass above the soft golden sand of Lumina Bay, a small cove of which some prestigious houses of Lumina Avenue overlook. Number 46 (Brooke's sprawling mini mansion) is one of them nonetheless, and Lucas finds himself wondering whether any of those windows facing the ocean look into Brooke's bedroom.

Every one of his fantasies are indulged as he lets his feet sink into the comforting sand and Brooke removes her top to reveal fabulously bright beachwear. Her skirt stays put for the time being, the sea breeze blowing it up to reveal more tanned flesh as she runs manicured fingers through her glossy hair.

Lucas silently debates whether she always aims to be this delicately sexy and beautiful and dangerous all at the same time. It would be a hard job, he gives her that. But she makes everything look effortless.

"You have beautiful skin." Brooke tells him as she settles herself on one of the two towels she came equipped with. Her hands are wandering over his now exposed chest-white reflecting against the harsh rays of the sun. Lucas of course, not knowing that the majority of his school day would be spent at the beach, is unable to rid himself of his other clothing, i.e heavy jeans, having not brought any beach attire with him.

Her words puzzle him. He's not quite sure whether he enjoys her compliment. Are guys supposed to have beautiful skin? Isn't that something he should be saying to her? (meaning every word of it, because Brooke Davis has the most amazing skin he's ever seen. It's like porcelain and silk at the same time.)

"Um, thank you." He replies politely, wanting to respond with a compliment for the girl beside him.

"I really love your…flip flops."

She chuckles, and Lucas cringes at his inability to pay the easiest of compliments about something normal like hair or eyes or skin to Brooke Davis. He wishes he has the guts to tell her that even if every day were dull, every cloud grey and pouring rain, she's still bright. He wants to scream that her body is perfect and her smile is like that of an angel. But this is all cheesy and romantic and totally out of character.

So he settles, both emotionally and physically unavailable for the time being, for closing his eyes against her hand tracing patterns across his torso.

"I got them at the Gap."

"What?" Lucas questions, one blue eye open to determine whether or not it's her stunning form, or just merely a cloud that is weaving a shade over him.

"My flip flops." She smiles, adjusting her position so that she's now on her side, left arm propping her up so that she can face him. "I got them at the Gap."

"Oh." He nods, thinking of anything he might be wearing that has the same store label as the one Brooke has just mentioned.

"I have a shirt from there." He tells her, not wishing to end a conversation that may allow an uncomfortable silence to fall over the two of them. Lucas wants her to talk to him all the time, even if it's just rubbish or even girly things he knows she'll talk about with Peyton. He loves that raspy tone to fill his ears, making the hairs on his arms stand up on end.

"Is it blue?" Brooke asks.

"Blue?"

"No, it's beige." He replies, a little confused. "Why?"

She shrugs, flopping back down on her towel. "I like the colour blue on you. It brings out your eyes."

This time it's Lucas' turn to turn to her, resting his weight on his side as he scans the beach for anyone he might know. He's not stupid, he knows that Dan Scott's house (the place he once called 'home') is only a few minutes walk away from here. He could easily have the view of a lifetime from one of the guest bedroom windows.

"Thanks."

She opens her eyes, and for the first time, Lucas notices the flecks of emerald green in them.

"You have really nice eyes." She tells him, the compliments seemingly never-ending.

----

There aren't many people around today, Lucas observes. There are a few couples walking hand in hand along the shoreline, and the younger children splashing around in the shallow parts of the cool ocean.

They've been laying here for a while now, Lucas feeling his skin tingle as it's left for the sun to create a golden canvas over what was previously pale and uninteresting. By opening his eyes for a few seconds every now and then, he's noticed a few freckles exposing themselves across Brooke's nose. It's not quite porcelain any more, but he finds her even more beautiful.

"You're at the beach now, you're not supposed to be brooding." She giggles a little, telling him this without even opening an eye.

"How'd you…"

"I can sense it." Brooke replies, not allowing Lucas to finish.

"How?"

He's curious now, wanting to know how she acquired this power over him that she hasn't given back, not yet anyway.

"Your breathing is more shallow."

"How do you know about my breathing habits?" He chuckles a little, his eyes fully open right now, because he wants, and needs, to learn more about Brooke Davis. She's still a mystery to him, a closed book so-to-speak, and he beginning to think it's not fair that she's been able to figure him out. Or most of him.

"I shared a bed with you last night." Brooke replies nonchalantly, flipping herself over so that her back gets the same treatment a her stomach has been given.

"About that." Lucas begins. "You weren't there this morning. Where'd you go?"

Lucas is at a loss when she shrugs, furrowing his brows in an attempt to try and figure her out, the way she has him.

"Back to my house for a shower and some clean clothes. It wouldn't really give the right impression if I came to school in last night's outfit." She answers plainly. "You know, me being head cheerleader and all."

"You could have left a note."

"I didn't think."

"Or even woken me up to say goodbye."

"I didn't think it mattered." She tells him.

"Well it matters to me." Lucas replies, a little frustrated. "What are you doing with me Brooke? What are you doing _to _me?"

She tosses brunette hair over her shoulder, flipping back over to continue their conversation. It's a little intense for a day at the beach, and for her, it's a little intense period. But she indulges him with her thoughts and why she does what she does, because he interests her. Lucas Scott makes her _want _to talk.

"We're having fun." She says softly. "Right?"

"Right."

"Unless I'm not fun to be with?"

"You're more than fun to be with Brooke." Lucas returns. "But I know nothing about you. A month ago you barely talked to me. Actually you _never _talked to me. And I never looked at you. What happened?"

She shrugs again and Lucas is beginning to get impatient. "So maybe we just hadn't noticed each other before."

"Then what are we _doing_?" Lucas pleads for a reply.

"Hanging out." She guesses. "Don't you ever just hang out Lucas?"

He shakes his head, no, with a small smile. It's the truth, he hasn't ever just hung out. The guys at the river court are there for him to play ball with, not to sit and talk to, or lay on the beach with.

She's closer to him now, her body curled up against his as Lucas fights his arms to stay rigid by his side. They want to explore her body, her bikini string, the cotton candy hairs at the back of her neck. But they don't because Lucas has more control.

"Brooke Penelope Davis." She whispers, voice husky, chest ever-nearing his.

"What?"

"Brooke Penelope Davis." She repeats. "That's my full name."

He barely has time to process the ridiculous-sounding middle name before he's met with sugar coated gloss at his lips and cotton candy at his fingertips. She's snuggling her head into the crook of his neck as he rolls over slightly, allowing his hand now to rest on the small of her back as she shuts her mascara-coated lashes against his hot skin.

Lucas can't care now that the information she's given him isn't quite what he wanted. He can't care because she's murmuring something against his neck that's sending goose bumps all the way down his arms.

----

They've been at the beach too long. Lucas can tell because his skin has started to go crispy, and there are more freckles across Brooke's nose than there were before. She doesn't seem to care though, because when he arouses her from hours of peaceful slumber, she only giggles as Lucas points out the time, also telling her how mad Karen is going to be when he gets home.

"Blame it on me." She says sweetly as he gathers up towels and clothes in a flurry. "All of it."

He already does. He's blaming his sunburn on Brooke, because if she hadn't sent him that note, he wouldn't be here right now. He's blaming his tiredness on Brooke, because she kept him up half the night with her marshmallow-ridden sleepover. And he's blaming his desire to spend every waking moment with her on Brooke, because it's her he wants, and all they're doing right now is 'hanging out.'

But he's not mad. He'd do all of it all over again.

"Tell me." Karen demands as soon as Lucas opens the back door. "Tell me why I've just had your principal on the phone letting me know that you cut class today."

Lucas shrugs, a wry smile for the very trait he's stolen from Brooke. "I was bored."

He can tell his Mom doesn't know what to say, or do, because the only words coming out of her mouth consist of something to do with Keith. Either way, Lucas can't concentrate fully, because he's recalling his afternoon.

"Just go to your room." She shouts. "No dinner tonight."

He walks away, hands deep in his pocket as he remembers the basketball game he's due to play tomorrow. And then his thoughts turn to the cheerleaders. One cheerleader to be exact: head cheerleader. Brooke Penelope Davis.

He'll have to stay at school until the game, he decides. There's no way he'll be able to sneak out once he gets back home, Karen will make sure of that. It won't matter though, Lucas figures. Because it might mean even more time spent in Brooke's world.

And her world is way better than any of his ever have been.

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Please review xxx


	6. Champagne Ice

**A/N- **Firstly, I want to say thank you to everyone who reviewed last chapter, though it there didn't seem to be quite so many this time :( This chappie, is not really a filler, but more of an insight into how Lucas used to live with Dan etc, seeing as I decided it was probably time to explain the relationship. It does however, include a little Brucas :) because I have to do something to compensate for the lack of it in the show. And because I'm all out of ways to make Peyton into a bitch, I've decided to just not really talk about her in this story haha SILENT TREATMENT!

Hope you all enjoy, and pretty please review at the end :) xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 6: Champagne Ice

There's been nothing but silence since Lucas returned home last night, and his stomach is churning as he walks the last few feet to the kitchen, where he knows Keith will be waiting for him.

"Skipping school?" He thunders, eyes burning as Lucas swallows, not guiltily, (because he can't feel guilty for doing a single thing with Brooke Davis-feelings like that aren't allowed around her) but nervously awaiting his punishment.

"How much of a dumbass can you be Lucas?"

The boy simply shrugs, undeterred, because today is his first basketball game, and his first chance to accept perhaps a flirtatious invitation to the Davis household by Brooke herself. He's itching for this torrent of words to be over so that he can leave for school, and Keith's words seem to be falling on deaf ears anyway.

"Show some Goddamn respect!" He spits, hand rubbing the back of his neck roughly as Lucas simply stares at the floor. "Did you think we wouldn't find out?"

"I don't know." Lucas mumbles. They're the only truthful words he can think of right now because he's almost sure he doesn't know anything any more.

"How do you think this makes us look?" Keith urges. "How do you think this makes your Mother look? She's running for major of this town while you're off gallivanting around during school hours."

"Why should it make any difference?" Lucas asks numbly. These conversations, or one-sided arguments really, aren't frequent, but everything revolves around the same principles, he's figured.

"It makes a difference because people _care_ Lucas!"

"Then I'm sorry." He shrugs again. "I've gotta go to school."

He's almost out of the door before Keith's strong hand grabs it, making Lucas jump as the handle is pulled away from his grasp.

"I'll drive you."

----

Lucas had always enjoyed silence. It gave him time to think, to imagine, to remember good things and block out the bad. But after spending the majority of his time lately with Brooke Davis, silence is the least thing he's looking for, and the buzz of the school parking lot as he shuts the door of Keith's truck behind him is a welcome relief.

He's scanning all of the cars in the row he's stood before, in an attempt to catch a glimpse of Brooke who he knows will be wearing her cheerleading uniform. Her car isn't here though, and Lucas' disappointment is evident as he watches groups of friends form in front of him.

It's not like he hasn't ever had friends, he just doesn't have any best friends, not really. He supposes he could call Skillz and Mouth and the rest of the guys at the River Court his best friends, because there aren't any other people (besides Brooke of course) that he talks to. But then he's been attending this school for nearly a year. And Skillz barely acknowledges his presence in the hallways.

Lucas doesn't blame him for this, and he hasn't ever really cared. He'd decided years ago that time for friends wasn't something he had much of anyway, so it was better to focus all spare energy on basketball at the River Court, because he needed that. He didn't need friends.

"Hey gorgeous."

He knows the arms wrapping themselves around his chest from behind, and that raspy voice stealing his attention is yet another indicator that Brooke Penelope Davis is stood beside him.

Lucas casts a glance to his Uncle's truck, where Keith is glaring at him with angry eyes, and offering him a smug smile, he walks away, Brooke's arm linking with his like it was always meant to be there.

Brooke has friends. She has a best friend: Peyton Sawyer. She has guy friends like Nathan (his half brother, remember?) and Tim (merely a stupid sidekick, but a friend nonetheless.) She has lots of friends on the cheerleading squad, none of whom Lucas can name. She has friends at parties and friends at college and probably more that Lucas hasn't witnessed.

And yet, she's still hanging out with him. So he figures it must mean something.

"Hey Brooke." He finally replies, and before he can ask her how she is, she's cut in, unlinking her arm and walking backwards in front of him so that he can see her face.

"So were your parents mad last night?"

"Mad kinda doesn't describe what they are." He chuckles slightly, before wincing, realising that none of this is a joke, and he shouldn't be boring the pretty girl with his problems.

"Was that your dad?" She asks.

"No." Is all Brooke gets in return, and realising he isn't going to elaborate, she changes topic.

"So you ready for tonight's game?"

"I guess."

He's smiling a little now, and Brooke's relieved that she doesn't have to continue what might be a tense conversation. She doesn't like tense, and she doesn't like difficult and she hates problems. So whatever underlying issue Lucas has, can wait, she figures, because right now, she only wants the surface.

"We'd better win, because if that Claire Young thinks Bear Creek are any better than us, her head might not get through the gymnasium doors." Brooke tells him. "And I'd hate for her to prowling these corridors. She gives cheerleading a bad name."

Lucas finds himself laughing as Brooke recounts last year's cheerleading competition: 'The Sparkle Contest' and every expression on her face that accompanies each story. Claire Young, he discovers, is Bear Creek's head cheerleader, and has some sort of problem with Brooke. She's jealous, Lucas decides, because he can't imagine anyone in this world who wouldn't like her.

"Anyway, you should talk to Nathan." Brooke begins, frowning. "Actually he has the surname as you. Kinda weird huh?"

"Yeah." Lucas nods, not wanting to correct her, because it's too early for the truth, and he's almost sure nothing good could come of it anyway.

"He's one of my best friends and he's a really good guy so I'm sure he could give you the heads up on the warriors." She smiles. "He's kinda up his own ass but I like him anyway."

Lucas nods, continuing the walk to his locker as Brooke waves and greets practically everyone who means anything in this school. A forced introduction to Nathan is exactly what he doesn't need. But Lucas isn't stupid. He knows they'll be playing on the same team. They just don't have to admit the truth.

----

Peyton's complaining that Brooke doesn't spend enough time with her anymore. She's complaining that first, Nathan is neglecting her, forgetting to pick her up and cancelling plans to go see movies. And second, her BFF is also neglecting her, choosing to spend time with that 'weird' guy with the blonde hair.

"His name is Lucas." He hears Brooke instruct, flipping her shiny hair over her shoulder. It's the first lunch time in a while that she hasn't sat with him. And Lucas knows exactly how Peyton feels. If Brooke had been neglecting him, he's almost sure he would be more upset than Peyton seems to be.

"Well whatever, but what exactly are you doing with him?"

He watches Brooke shrug from the corner of his eye, and quickly dips his head as he anticipates forthcoming eye contact.

"We're just hanging out I guess."

"You're not like, hot for him are you?"

Peyton's question is enough for Lucas, and he exits the cafeteria hastily, not wanting to hear Brooke's reply in case it was the wrong one.

"There's going to be a party after the game tonight." Brooke tells him, whispering in his ear at practise as Whitey instructs certain plays. "At my house."

He finds himself smiling, because if this is Brooke's round about way of inviting him, it means he gets to surround himself with more things that involve her, and though it's on the same street, her house isn't Nathan's. And that means his father won't be around.

"Really?" He whispers back, wanting to play at her game because right now, she doing something to his arm with her finger tips, and as Whitey peers his way, Lucas realises he hasn't heard a word of what has been said.

"Is that an invitation?" Lucas asks when Whitey has turned his attentions elsewhere.

She shrugs, and then Lucas is confused. "Anyone can come."

He watches as her brown eyes dart back to her squad, and her best friend, who is frowning and holding her hands up to signal hurrying.

"Bye gorgeous."

And then she's across the other side of the gymnasium before Lucas can blink, and decipher what she means. He has no idea how one moment she can make him feel so special, and the other, she can bring him back down instantly, not a moments hesitation about his feelings.

----

So he hadn't bargained on his father being at this game. Lucas can see him sat on the front row, right in the centre so that he has the best view possible. And there's no way he'll miss Lucas.

He's taken aside by Nathan in the locker room, who hisses quickly at him that he has no brain.

"What the Hell were you thinking? Can you not remember living with us?"

"I tried to block it out." Lucas mumbles sarcastically, yet meaning every word.

"He's going to see." Nathan tells him. "And he's not going to leave you alone."

Nathan, Lucas half brother is everything that he's not. He was always his father's favourite (because illegitimacy is unacceptable in Dan Scott's eyes, and he was married to another woman-Nathan's mom.) He was weak and dumb and quiet, and Dan hated that.

Days used to consist of going to school, coming home and trying to avoid Dan's abuse. Lucas had never called him 'dad', not once. He wouldn't, he couldn't, and no matter how many times he went over it in his mind, Dan would never be his dad, not really.

Nathan's wants and needs were always put first. Lucas had never hated him for this, and he still didn't. He had told himself that Dan lacked the skills to be a real dad, because even Nathan was bullied for not scoring enough points or not catching the rebound when it should have easily been his.

Lucas still remembers the night when Nathan first played junior basketball, and missed an open net. He stayed in his room, an ear pressed to the door as he heard Dan repeat over and over again how Nathan was useless, and nothing like his father, yet everything like his wimp of a brother.

That was the only night the two boys ever shared a room, Lucas holding a torch as they burrowed under bed linen, whispering how much they hated their father, and how much better at basketball they were going to be than he ever was.

"Remember that night we made our secret den in my room?" Lucas asks, blue eyes burning in anticipation.

"What?"

"That night after you came home from basketball camp, when your team lost the final."

"What does this have to do with anything?" Nathan hurries a reply, because he can't have people finding out about his history, not when carefully structured lies have been held in place by both boys for as long as they can remember.

"We both said that we'd never care what Dan said, so long as we could play basketball. We said we'd be better than he ever was."

"Is there a point to this?"

"We can show him." Lucas says. "Tonight."

He shrugs, and Lucas figures this is a lost cause. He doesn't blame him, not really. He's come to expect nothing more.

"Look, I've been on this team for a year, and I've scored a hell of a lot of points. I'm not going to make 'us' a team just so you can show Dan."

Lucas nods, understanding. "Whatever."

----

It's Brooke that ruffles her pom poms first as Lucas exits the locker room to a chorus of cheers along with the rest of the team. She blows him a kiss with her glossy lips, accompanied by that dimpled smile and shinning eyes as he lines up, and he can only respond with a shy, nervous smile before lifting his head up far enough to see the man he's tried so hard to forget.

His eyes and his heart, Lucas figures, are like ice, and not even his own son can melt through them. He's cold and he's hard and Lucas had begun to wonder whether he would turn out the same way. But when he looks over to the cheerleaders, or head cheerleader in particular, he knows that's not about to happen any time soon.

She mouths "Good luck," to him, and Lucas just wants everyone to notice that he and Brooke Davis are _something, _even if he's not quite sure what that something is.

The whistle is blown and then all Lucas is allowed to concentrate on is the blur of orange passing across the court like it's too hot for anyone to hold on to for long.

It's only taken him a few minutes to realise that he's been frozen out. Ice.

He's been open along the left too many times to count, and yet not once has that ball reached his finger tips. He wonders whether this is on Nathan's say so, or the whole team's. But then when he looks at a grinning Dan, he realises that it's all about revenge.

"What in the hell was that?" Whitey spits at half time. "Lucas has been open the entire game. One of you tell me why hasn't so much as seen the ball!"

All Lucas can see is Dan smirking behind their coach, and he's ready to give up. But then Brooke sidles up to him, exposed stomach and legs staring him in the face. And she plants a soft kiss on his cheek, a lingering kiss, one that he might have been persuaded to follow up had they not been on a basketball court in front of the entire community.

"I just wanted to say better luck for the second half." She whispers raspily, before receiving a glare from Whitey which sends her back to her squad on the sideline. A kiss from Brooke Davis is enough to keep anyone going, Lucas decides. So he's not about to give up now.

"If Lucas is open, pass the damn ball to him!" Whitey spits one last time, before everyone's hands are in the centre of the circle as they all shout 'Ravens.'

He hasn't been open. Not once. The guys from Bear Creek have sussed Lucas' strategy for breaking free, and are now doubling him in order to keep him guarded. It gives Nathan time to break free, but the warriors are quicker, and can steal the ball before it gets passed to Skillz or anyone else.

----

Lucas' moments arrives a few seconds before the full time whistle. He breaks free along the sideline, and seeing nobody in the centre beneath the net, and the seconds ticking away on the score board, he's forced to shoot. It's from the three point line, and his knees are shaking as that ball is released from his hands. His squints as it bounces tantalizingly on the rim, daring Lucas to be laughed out of the gym by Dan and all of his team mates. But it falls through the net two seconds before the buzzer sounds.

And the Ravens have won by two points.

He's almost knocked to the ground by Skillz and another team member hugging him too hard. But he doesn't care. Because he just won the game. And after they release him, he's met by another body, a smaller body that smells of perfume and shampoo flinging itself into him.

He's surrounded by chestnut hair as she tells him "Well done Broody," and this time, she presses her lips up against his other cheek.

He can glare at Dan from his position, and all he receives is cold eyes, ice eyes as his father stands up to exit the gymnasium. Lucas knows he can't stay, because he's not big enough for that.

It might be ice. But to Lucas, it's champagne ice.

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Please please please review guys :)


	7. Sugar Overload

**A/N- **I would have posted this a few days ago but the silly document manager wouldn't let me :( But it's done now, so hope you enjoy this chapter! And thank you very much for your reviews you lovely readers :) xxx**

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 7: Sugar Overload

So what if he's hard-core grounded? That hasn't stopped Lucas before, and now that he's the school basketball hero (being that his title might only last the day) he's not about to sit at home listening to his Mom's strategy to win the election, or Keith's constant criticism about his lack of judgement. He might be able to bare it if Keith was complaining about school or his attitude or even basketball. But now he's mentioning to Karen the girl he saw in the parking lot the previous day. Brooke Davis. And Lucas is damned if they blame her for any of this.

It's evening, and school today had been one of the best days Lucas has had. He's recognised, not just by teachers, but by girls, and especially girls he doesn't know. Guys in his bio class were congratulating him on his shot that won the game, and even the jocks gave him a nod at lunch.

He's wondering though, whether this also might have something to do with the school's favourite girl, _his_ favourite girl. Brooke sits with him during lunch sometimes, and today was no exception. She had offered him some of her curly fries and the fruit salad she had for pudding. She'd offered him a ride home and a swig from the bottle of diet Pepsi she had in her cooler.

He had declined everything, telling her thank you, but he was good. He was happy to watch as she ate slowly and carefully, and to smile as she sung along to the cheesy music blaring out of her car stereo as she waved him goodbye from the parking lot.

Lucas has now been forced to work shifts at his Mom's small café, after he returned home from Brooke's party at gone midnight. Expecting to find his parents worried, he had excuses in place ready to relay back to them when they asked why he hadn't answered his cell when they rang.

But that failed to happen. Instead, Karen had met him at the back door with a slap across his left cheek to show her disgust, and after telling him not to make any plans for the next month because he had shifts to complete at her café, she made her way to the bedroom she shared with Lucas' uncle.

He shouldn't really have been surprised that there had been no phone call. They weren't worried about him, but what people would think. False appearances were what the Scott family was good at. And Lucas knew he had as big a role as anyone to play in that.

----

"_Here." Brooke hands him a small folded piece of paper during history, fourth period, and as he begins to unfold it, Lucas guesses it's another invitation to skip this class and head wherever she might take him._

_But when his eyes settle on the carefully inked numbers, he realises that it has nothing to do with skipping school. Lucas casts her a confused expression, and she raises an eyebrow as if to urge him to guess._

_Rolling her eyes as Lucas fails to decipher her code, Brooke turns herself fully around to him, offering a daring invitation for Lucas to view her black bra strap. It has lace on it which falls perfectly over her skin, which he notices is a little sunburned. He figures she's spent another afternoon at the beach, or at least wearing skimpy tops which show enticing amounts of skin._

_Momentarily, he's forgotten what he's supposed to be doing, let alone what the teacher is instructing the class to do. But then he catches her eye, and she smirks at him, realising where he's been staring for the past few seconds._

"_It's my cell number." She whispers, waiting for him to reply. He doesn't succeed and she turns around, pretending to both Lucas and the teacher, that she's paying attention to the task in hand. But she has no idea what it is, and she's only buying time until the teacher has finished staring at her, trying to determine in his head whether the notorious party girl is paying attention._

"_So you're not going to give me yours then?" A single eyebrow of hers is raised again, and her glossy lips have curved into that half smile she reserves for when she's trying to toy with him. He figured that smile out at lunch the other day, and was silently proud for being able to crack one of Brooke Davis' many secret codes._

"_Oh." He replies, a little roughly, causing a giggle to escape Brooke's lips. It's quiet enough so as not to attract unwanted attention, yet it takes everything Lucas has to not reach out and trace those lips. _

_He only realises how nervous she makes him when he unfolds his hands and the pen that he's picked up slides out from between his fingers. He gives her an embarrassed smile, his cheeks flushing further when he's caught by the teacher, and his cell number is read out to the entire class._

----

He's reading her text message, one last time, just to make sure he hasn't imagined the words 'Meet you at your Mom's café gorgeous.' A smile for the fact he hasn't, and then Lucas slings the bag of books over his shoulder. Brooke asked him for help with history. Lucas figures he needs to read up on everything he's missed in that class since she begun distracting him with flirty smiles, underwear and that whisper-voice.

"And Lucas?" His Mom instructs as he's about to exit the house they all call home.

"Yeah?"

"You mess around and it looks bad on me. Don't screw up."

He wonders if life for Karen Roe is all about deceiving the public. If every minute of every day she's worrying about what people think of her, of them. And he's sorry for her, if that's the case, because though it hasn't destroyed him, yet, it destroyed her too long ago for Lucas to care anymore.

He wonders if her and Keith need pills to sleep at night. He wonders if the contents of the vodka and whisky bottles that are kept in the cabinet in their living room ever decrease. And then he's left wondering whether they've lived this lifestyle for so long that they've managed to delude themselves, believing that they are, actually, happy.

Perhaps they're not even living anymore. It could be just an existence that fools outsiders and traps those who know more than they should. Lucas used to be an outsider. When he lived with Dan, family life at his Mom's seemed to be just that. But it didn't take long for him to know the truth. And the truth bit back at Lucas almost more than he could take.

Now he realises that they might have brainwashed him too. He's pretending to Brooke, and everyone around him that he has nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. But these secrets, to Lucas, are everything. And he's not yet stupid enough to forget that _everything _has a way of finding itself.

----

She doesn't arrive for what seems like too long to Lucas. He only has a few customers though, and they've been served with the same false smile that everyone (except Brooke) receives from him.

"I'd like a hot chocolate please." She tells him sweetly, placing her coins on the counter top as Lucas realises too late that he's wearing an apron. Brooke tells him it's cute though, and while his back is turned, she finds time to survey her surroundings.

She hasn't been here before. She's passed the place plenty of times, but the need to venture inside has never presented itself. But she knows Lucas is here now. And for Brooke Penelope Davis, that's invitation enough.

He's removed from his thoughts by squealing, and as he turns to see what it means, his eyes dart to Brooke's appearance. Her hair is down and flowing, with softer edges around her face to frame a perfect complexion and partially hide diamond earrings. Her jeans are full length, and ripped over the knees (she's paid for them like this though, he can tell) to portray a casual appearance. Her top is spaghetti strap, and she's changed her underwear, Lucas notices, (because the strap showing is white, as apposed to the black lace one he saw earlier) and her painted toenails are exposed in candy pink-coloured flip flops to match the polish.

"I have to have those mini marshmallows on the top." She tells him, pointing to the glass container on the counter. The candy in question, has attracted Brooke's gaze because she hasn't ever seen mini pink marshmallows before. Sure, the larger ones are common, but to find multi-coloured hot chocolate decoration is a surprise to her.

"There you go." Lucas smiles, setting the mug in front of the girl who pushes the money at him. He shakes his head, no.

"It's on me."

"Thanks Luke." She giggles, taking a sip and then recoiling.

"Did I make it wrong?" He worries aloud, and as she shakes her head and laughs a little more, he feels foolish for even asking.

"It's just a little hot, that's all."

Lucas is glad that they're studying right now. He's not sure what they might talk about otherwise, because she seems unwilling to give up anything about her world, and Lucas feels the same. So he continues to explain the reasons why Cholera was a major killer in London many centuries ago, and why people were unable to escape the waterborne disease.

Customers don't amount to many, and when he does have to break from his study session with Brooke, she's only too happy to twirl her fluffy pen between her thumb and forefinger as Lucas makes lattes and cappuccinos.

"Why do you like history so much?" She asks him, brown eyes inquisitive as he relays her words in his head before offering an answer.

"I like to know about people's lives." He tells her. "I find it interesting to know how people lived before us, and how they thought we might live now."

"So you don't just find it…a little boring?"

Lucas chuckles a little, shaking his head.

"Well maybe if I had you for a teacher all the time, I'd pay more attention." She says, biting her lower lip as if she's told him a secret, something naughty that he shouldn't know.

Brooke Davis is like sugar, Lucas concludes. He guesses that if he could control his intake, he'd be on overload right now. She's slid into the seat beside him, ready to hear more about what he loves, while radiating warmth and lust like Lucas can't believe. He's almost sure he's going to melt, and the sudden realisation of what time it is comes as somewhat of a welcome relief.

"I should turn the sign to closed." He tells her, metaphorically closing himself as well. Brooke is exploiting every boundary he has, and he can't afford to let them down any time soon.

----

She's wearing an apron. It's pink and has cherries on it, and a white ribbon which she's tied around her waist in a bow at the front. She looks like a parcel. An intriguing, interesting, exciting parcel that Lucas just wants to open.

"We match." She giggles, picking up a towel to dry to pots that Lucas is washing in the sink.

He wants to tell her that they don't, not really. She's popular and funny and desperately beautiful. He's been outcast for most of his life, he's serious, and she's the only one who calls him 'gorgeous.' Lucas isn't convinced she means that, choosing to believe that the term of endearment is used for others, not just him.

But he doesn't say any of this, because he knows she's only talking about their aprons, and he can't afford to scare Brooke away when he has cravings that involve only her.

"You don't have to dry." He tells her. "I'll do it later."

"Don't be silly." She replies. "It's not like I have anywhere to be anyway."

And then she's left him wondering whether tonight, for her, is a last resort. Whether there are no parties for her to attend, no other social needs to be fulfilled or taken care of, so she's spending her time with him instead. He plays second string to everything her life was before they met, and everything her life will be after she forgets anything about him.

"What do you do Brooke?" Lucas asks her. "When you're not at school or partying or with me?"

He's definitely unprepared for her reply, as, instead of words, her lips meet his, blurring all thoughts and defining all feeling. Her hands are moving her body over his slowly, his own fingers running through silky hair, down to warm skin that melts under his wake. The counter behind him is acting as his support, as she presses herself into him and he feels that white ribbon come undone.

Lucas leaves all desperation for an answer to his question when she manages to switch their bodies, and her hands are stroking just below his ear. It's a place he didn't know could feel anything it all, but the shivers hitting him in waves are defying that belief as quickly as his own hands fumble to her side.

One hand props up his body, his weight held off of her as the other creeps past spaghetti straps, further along her shape until it reaches her neck beneath her chestnut hair.

Lucas can't think of time or place or others as Brooke continues her assault on his lips, tugging lightly with nipping teeth until he can no longer stand the small gap forming between them every time their lips part a little. He's never kissed a girl like this before, but he's grateful to have the teacher that he's craved since meeting her back in that school gymnasium.

Her lips are painted with that slick strawberry gloss, and controlled intake or not, for Lucas Scott, it's definitely a sugar overload.

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Please review guys :)

Love Emily-Grace xxx


	8. Cheery Cupcake

**A/N- **Review alert is broken. Again :( I wonder if it's just mine, or if everyone else is having the same problem? I have to say a huge thankyou to my lovely reviewers, and after this chapter, things will be starting to move a little faster in this story. I just needed a build up for the characters to be shown, and a little push from **Photobooth Romance **(Melissa) to think that speeding things up a little would be good for the story. So I hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 8: Cheery Cupcake

Lucas Scott hadn't imagined this start to the day. His eyes are sore and tired, heavy from lack of proper sleep. His neck feels prickly every time something touches it, and his fingers are shaky, needing something to rest on as he lets the hot water from the shower pour over him.

It's Brooke. All of it is Brooke. His eyes are sore: she kept him at the café long after his shift should have finished. His neck feels prickly: her hair had tickled him for so long that he had grown numb to that tickling feeling, giving in to her because she had enough power over him to make him do so. His fingers are shaking: they had spent the majority of the night running through chestnut hair and caressing the small patch of skin just below Brooke's ear.

But all the while they were kissing. And Lucas wouldn't change a thing.

"Make no plans tonight." Karen tells him as he enters the kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of jeans as he dries his spiky hair with a pristine white towel. "You're working at the café."

"Fine." He replies almost snappily as he throws down the towel, its landing on the back of the chair saving Lucas from being told that he appreciates nothing and takes for granted everything.

He doesn't care that he has shifts at the café. He and Brooke had arranged another _study session _for tonight, and he knows that him being in an apron and supposedly serving customers won't stop Brooke Davis from doing what she wants. If she requests another cookie dough ice-cream with strawberry sauce and coloured sprinkles, Lucas will make her it. If she demands a hot chocolate with extra mini marshmallows, Lucas will allow it. And if she orders a waffle with cinnamon and hot fudge sauce, Lucas will grant her access to the toaster and the spoons, because she's Brooke Penelope Davis. He won't say no to anything she wants. He _can't _say no.

----

"So gorgeous, are your lips feeling totally neglected or what?" Brooke asks him in the parking lot that morning, before pressing her coated lips up against his. Her hands are curling around the back of his neck and as she strokes her fingertips up and down, Lucas can almost forget where he is. Almost.

"Brooke, maybe we shouldn't do this here." He tells her, eyes narrowed into a squint as he checks around. He's not really sure what he's looking for, but he's uncomfortable all the same, and even her cute dimpled pout isn't enough to make him change his mind. But it almost is. Almost.

"So you're not into PDA then?" She asks, linking her arm with his as she turns them towards the direction of the main school building.

"PDA?"

"Public Displays of Affection."

"Oh erm…" Lucas falters, unable to reply. He hadn't ever thought that if Brooke Davis was kissing him, he'd be the one to stop it. But he's barely known at school. Until the other day, he was unrecognised, and the transformation from quiet student to Brooke Davis' basketball-playing boyfriend is a little daunting to say the least. He doesn't want to be watched by the entire student body as he locks lips with the school queen, only to be kicked to the curb and forgotten a few weeks later.

He'd rather go through that in private, because his and Brooke's relationship is just that. He doesn't want to think about what people might say behind his back as they watch him kiss Brooke, and wonder why she's surrounded herself with an illegitimate loser when she could have any man she wants.

So for now, Lucas is more than content to link arms as they walk through corridors and pass people who he figures have come to regard him as Brooke Davis' 'friend.'

----

Lucas has always loved his literature class. He finds the ways in which poets such as Walt Whitman or Edgar Allan Poe write inspirational and worthy of any of his time. He enjoys writing essays on why the context of a poem is sometimes more important than the poem itself or listening to discussions on whether personification really does make things seem more realistic.

But today is different because for the hour that is literature class, all Lucas can think about is Brooke Davis. He's desperate to see her again, (it's only been a short while since he was last graced with her presence) so he's now having to recall the previous night, and all the new evidence that came with it.

She has nicknames for him. He's her 'broody.' She calls him gorgeous and she's even begun to shorten his first name to Luke. He loves how she forms words with the tip of her tongue, whispering certain letters and stressing others. He could listen to her talk about anything and everything all day and never get bored, because that's how much Brooke captures his attention.

He wonders, whether if he's her 'broody,' she could be his 'cheery' because that is, after all, Brooke's nature. She's happy, smiling with dimples and sparkling eyes, and she's warm. But then Lucas realises that she's not his, never was, and he has no right to be thinking in this way.

This relationship, or casual form, is on Brooke's say-so. Her terms and conditions apply because she's more important than he ever will be. Lucas is okay with that-he can't attempt to make this something that it's not, and he doesn't want to delude himself anyway.

He thanks God (silently of course, because he doesn't want to appear stupid in front of fragile friendships with his class mates) that his name is being called to go see the nurse, because he's not sure how much more Brooke Penelope Davis-contemplating he can do.

"Gotcha." She giggles as she pulls on Lucas' shirt a little too forcefully and his body falls into the wall in a secluded corner near his locker. It's Brooke's finger pressed up against his lips, and her eyes are shinning with so much excitement that Lucas is desperate to know what she's doing.

"Brooke?"

"I am the master of all great plans." She giggles, kissing him just a little until she breaks away, slightly breathless as she flicks glossy hair over tanned shoulders.

"What am I doing?" Lucas asks, confused.

"Think along the lines of nurses office." She tells him, eyebrow raised, dimpled smile at the ready so that Lucas knows whatever she's about to do is probably illegal. "But more like…Brooke Davis' office."

"What do you…"

"C'mon." She tugs at his hand and Lucas has no choice but to follow her to wherever she's leading him. She's wearing a skirt that's a little longer than the ones he's been accustomed to seeing Brooke wear. Teaming that with a tight shirt that hugs her curves and her very defined chest, and a hot pink flower clip in her hair, she looks nothing short of stunning, Lucas feels.

"Stop checking out my ass." She tells him, hand pulling him further along the silent corridor. They're having to whisper now, to avoid being caught, but Lucas doesn't care. He'd creep around in disguise for Brooke Davis to lead him anywhere, and the more they keep walking, the more he's intrigued.

"I'm sorry." He stumbles. "I wasn't…"

"Why wouldn't you check out my ass?" She whirls around. "Is it not good enough?"

"It's _definitely_ good en…"

"Great." Brooke cuts in once more. "Now come on."

She pulls him into the tiniest cupboard Lucas has seen, and as soon as that door is shut behind them, and Brooke has felt for the light switch, they're kissing. His hands are creeping across her cheek, tracing small patterns of circles as her own hands are running through his hair, ruffling and restyling as his lips swell against hers and his feet trip closer.

"I had to kiss you." She giggles roughly against his mouth, ridding Lucas of the rolled-up shirt he has on over the blue t-shirt. Her lips are back on his again, preventing any conversation that might threaten to take place in what Lucas can only guess is the janitor's closet.

"Math is so boring, and especially hard to pay attention to when you're thinking about what you could do…" She trails off, kissing his lips again. "Instead."

"How did you…"

Brooke waves a hand, telling him that none of it matters, not when her plan is working and talking about it would only waste valuable time.

She's unbuttoning the pink shirt, revealing more skin than Lucas expected to see. Her brown, gleaming eyes are on his all the time, and the smallest of smirks passes across her lips as Lucas ca only watch, helpless.

"Brooke…" He begins, swallowing as she flicks open another button and he can view hot pink underwear that he couldn't have envisaged looking more perfect on any of the Victoria's Secret models.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this…here."

"We're in private." She shrugs, a little, yet almost not at all deterred.

"But we're not…I mean…" Lucas struggles for words, and Brooke waits patiently, chest heaving as she counts down the seconds until his lips are back on hers. "I'm not…so sure."

Her dainty fingers reach to the buttons, easily slipping them back in each hole they had each previously lain as Lucas offers an apologetic smile and she stumbles upon yet more of the cute, shyness she'd found so intriguing in the first place.

"I'm sorry, I just…"

"It's okay." Brooke interrupts. She's not quite sure why she never lets him finish any of these sentences, but she doesn't like where they're leading. The surface of Lucas Scott is fine for the time being, which means the depths of Brooke Penelope Davis are well and truly hidden.

"So I should?" Lucas points to the door, his left hand reaching up to his mouth in order to regain feeling in his swollen lips. She reaches in to kiss him, which Lucas least expects, before letting him go with a satisfied grin and ruffled hair.

"Bye gorgeous." She whispers huskily. "Have fun in English."

----

There are lots of words in the English language to describe Brooke Davis: beautiful, enticing, sexy, fun, popular. He could continue, and Lucas can't think of anywhere to end. She has names for him: broody, gorgeous.

He wants to tell her all of this. He wants to lay on her bed and let her talk to him about anything, in turn, letting her know just how much of his world now revolves around her, and how he can't have that change any time soon. He wants to call her 'cheery' and 'cupcake.'

He wants her to be his, and he wants to be hers. He wants to introduce her to Karen and Keith, and he wants to meet her parents, knowing that they must be something to be able to raise a daughter like Brooke.

He wants to play her all the songs that remind him of her, and all of the literature he has absorbed that bares any resemblance to the stunning brunette. He wants to quote Steinbeck and Blake and Hemmingway.

And yet none of this can happen because Lucas doesn't have the guts to let Brooke know, and even if he did, he's not sure that she wouldn't laugh and think he was kidding or being cheesy.

So for now, cheery cupcake can reside happily in his head, burning behind sheets of numbness and a blurred reality. And Lucas can only wonder when this: Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott, will all be over.

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I know it seems desperate to plead for reviews, but please let me know what you think of this guys :) xxx


	9. Sherbet Sunset

**A/N- **Another chapter after a long wait. Sorry guys, but I've been kinda lacking inspiration (mainly because I haven't seen the show in so long!) for a new chapter. I got it back though, so I'm posting, and hopefully, you'll enjoy! xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 9: Sherbet Sunset

_Say, say my playmate  
Won't you lay hands on me?  
Mirror my lady  
Transfer my tragedy._

_My mind has changed,  
My body's frame but God I like it.  
My hearts aflame,  
My body's strained but God I like it._

"You're home tonight." Karen instructs Lucas as he throws his school bag over his shoulder. "No staying after school, no trips to the library, no messing around."

He's done eating breakfast at home any more. He can't enjoy the choco flakes or the toast because there seems to be a somewhat sour taste in his mouth. A taste that now (after several unexpected weeks of kissing her) leave him longing for the sweet sensation of Brooke Davis' strawberry lip gloss.

Lucas knows he should be used to the feel of her by now, to the smell of her hair and her perfume where ever she's been, to the raspy voice he hears ringing through his ears, long after she's left for home. But he's not, and he's worried that if the day ever comes that he gets used to her, all the magic that she's weaved may become lost. And Lucas can't afford to take that chance.

So he's surprised (and of course excited) to find her wearing her tiny cheerleading uniform as she lays across his single bed, twirling a strand of luxurious brown hair between perfectly manicured fingers. Never one to initiate anything in front of her, Lucas waits for Brooke to press her lips up against his, and when she does so, closing her hazel eyes and breathing in his cologne, Lucas feels the tingling down his arms spread to his legs, making him unstable beneath her.

"You ready for the game tonight gorgeous?" She breathes, beaming at him with a pearly smile.

"Oh crap."

He'd forgotten the game. Lucas knows he's not supposed to forget anything, not after his second chance from Whitey, and the double life his Mother's punishment is forcing him to lead. The cause of all this, is stood in front of him, trying to figure out what he means by the not-so-delicate word choice from a couple seconds ago.

"I forgot about the game tonight, I…my Mom needs me at the café."

"So?" She shrugs.

"So I'm kinda grounded as it is. Not working at the café would make her kinda mad…" Lucas trails off, realising that 'kinda mad' sure as Hell doesn't describe what would be Karen's reaction. Yet he's not sure what else she can do to him, and the team needs him.

"But the guys need you." Brooke pouts. "I need a partner for the coach ride."

And suddenly Lucas finds no problem deciding what he should do. Two hours of sitting next to Brooke on the coach can't be beaten, and as their relationship is being kept solely under wraps for the time being, Lucas figures he can find out a little about her. After all, the only piece of information she's offered is her full name. He guesses she can do a little better than that.

"I'll just have to get someone to cover for me."

----

Nobody knows Lucas Scott, not really. They can't cover for him at the café, because everybody is busy. Busy spending time with their girlfriends or their friends or have important assignments due in the next morning.

He's not disappointed, or indeed surprised. He's been a part of the basketball team for only a short while, and one winning shot isn't enough to convince the students of Tree Hill High to do him any favours. So he's left debating whether or not to tell his Mom that he has _extremely _important work to do at the library, or to just stay quiet, hoping that she won't pass the café on her way home.

"Nice seat." Brooke comments as she parks herself on the coach seat next to Lucas, a gentle squeeze of his hand to make up for a lost kiss.

He smiles a little, congratulating himself on the choice of places to sit. They're on the left hand side of the bus, able to look out of the window at the scenery with Lucas' chest providing the perfect pillow for a tired Brooke. They're second from the back, so as not to be in clear view of the basketball team and the cheerleaders.

People aren't stupid though: everyone knows there must be something going on between the head cheerleader and the newest basketball star. But people keep quiet in front of them-gossip is for willing ears only, and a school bus is far too public for any information-sharing to take place.

It doesn't take long for shouting to arise, cheerleaders playing truth while the guys talk tactics, perhaps which cheerleaders from other squads have good legs or a nice rack. Nathan (Brooke's friend and Lucas' secret half brother) seems to establish a relationship between himself and Peyton whenever and wherever he feels like it, Lucas has observed, as they continue to kiss despite Whitey's clearing of his throat. The old man gives up soon though, rolling his eyes and tutting as the youth under his care continue to what they want.

"Are you trying to be a mystery to me?" Lucas asks, breaking the quiet that had fallen only upon the two of them. Content to watch the landscape change, Brooke had failed to say anything much, making Lucas reasonably uncomfortable beneath her.

"What?"

"I still don't know anything about you Brooke." Lucas tells her. "Not really."

"Well it's not like you've told me everything about you either."

"Is it a game to you? He asks. "Waiting to see when I'll cave?"

"No." She bites back, perhaps a little harshly as a few people turn around to determine the cause of Brooke Davis' raised voice. "No." She replies again, much softer this time as she cranes her head to see him properly.

"Then why don't you just tell me something about you. It's not like you have anything to hide."

Brooke shrugs, an eyebrow raised as she contemplates her answer, before telling him "Have you ever listened to the lyrics of a song? I mean, _really _listened to the lyrics."

Lucas nods, knowing only too well how much meaning one line in a long list can have.

"There's this one song, by Oasis." She tells him, fiddling with the hem of the short jacket she's wearing over her uniform. "It's called wonder wall. Have you heard it?"

Lucas nods, and she smiles, continuing. "It's not like my favourite song or anything, but there's this one line in it that goes 'there's so many things that I would like to say to you but I don't know how.'"

"I know that line." Lucas frowns, a little confused as to where Brooke might be going with this. And then he gets it. That line applies to them both. He has enough things listed in his head that he knows he should tell Brooke, and that he wants to tell her. Like Nathan. Like how he hasn't told his parents about her, because he fears they could take it all away. Like the nights he's spent alone wishing he could recite poetry to her.

"It just kinda sums things up you know?"

It's quiet between them for a long time after that, Lucas content to mull things over in his own mind, only wondering (because he can never really figure out) whether Brooke is doing the same.

----

They won. It wasn't Lucas this time, who scored the winning few points, but his brother, Nathan, who's rewarded in perhaps the same way that he was only weeks ago. Peyton flings herself into him, blonde curly hair smothering the young jock, who's triumphant punching of the air at another win for the Tree Hill Ravens arouses Lucas from worrying about his punishment when he returns home.

"Perhaps I could stay at yours tonight?" He asks Brooke. It's worth a try-she's always been so forward with him, inviting herself over for midnight slumber parties and morning awakenings. Maybe she doesn't want him to be as reserved as he is-maybe she's looking for him to be a little more…assertive.

"Maybe." She shrugs. "But I have somewhere better for us to stay."

Brooke Davis confuses Lucas. He's been in her class for a year, studying quietly behind the confident party girl as she chats to her friends, flirts with boys and makes plans for the evening. She hadn't so much as said two words to him before he went to basketball try-outs, choosing instead to date guys from the soccer team and the football team and the athletics team, Lucas guesses. Plenty of guys _know _Brooke, he's heard them talking about it enough times.

So it all makes him wonder _why him? _He was a little cocky back in that gymnasium, perhaps brought on by new surroundings and a fresh start. She played a game with him before they even talked properly-refusing to tell him her name while pressing her body up against his in a suggestive manner that Lucas had never experienced before. So possibly, she wants him now, to do the same, and catch her off guard. Yet he's taken that chance, just now, and though not being fully rejected, Lucas' offer wasn't accepted.

"Just tell me it's legal." Lucas replies in a whisper, before capturing her lips lightly, a sealing of their later deal. Nobody around is concentrating on them anyway, Lucas figures, so it can't harm them.

Brooke simply raises an eyebrow, silently impressed as the two join in the celebrations with everyone else.

----

"You didn't tell me shopping was involved." Lucas says as he and Brooke walk through the glamorous department store in Tree Hill Mall. They'd arrived back at the school not long ago, and choosing to leave his punishment until later, Lucas had agreed to go with Brooke wherever she might take him. He's still awaiting their place of rest for the night, and as Brooke picks out her favourite nail polish, (sugar plum pink for the record) he listens to the announcements over the speakers.

"They're shutting soon." Lucas tells her, glancing at his watch. "Maybe we should head back to your car."

"I won't be long." She replies cheerily, biting her lower lip as she searches for another nail polish to match other outfits.

Brooke's pulling him towards the stuffed animal stand in the toy department. She doesn't have to drag him anywhere-a simple instruction will get Lucas to go with her anywhere. He's not quite sure why they're here-it's on the top floor and they've had to ride six escalators to get here. He can only guess that it's because being up here is like being a kid again.

Lucas remembers coming to this store with his Mom when he first moved in with her. She bought him furniture and a desk lamp and study books. He'd hoped that she would buy him the latest video games like the other kids got at school. But he'd soon realised that life with his Mom and Keith wasn't what he'd hoped-yet anything was better than living with Dan.

Brooke remembers coming to this store with Peyton, and her Mom and dad. It was near Christmas, when all the pretty decorations lined the ceiling and the stair rails, and fairy lights were strung across what was being used as the entrance to Santa's Grotto. They were only six, and yet Brooke's parents had gone away on business to New York, promising that they would tell Santa to bring her an extra special present that Christmas.

Larry and Anna, Peyton's parents had led the girls to the huge stand of stuffed animals and told them to pick one each. Peyton had chosen a lion, because she'd said that they both had big hair. Brooke had laughed and chosen a white bunny, because she remembered having a real one, before they'd moved into their new house. She'd named him Bubbles, using his ears to cuddle whenever she felt a little sad, or when she missed her parents.

She always stayed with Peyton when her parents were away. Anna would make them hot milk and cookies for supper, and read them a goodnight story. Shame she was too old for that now.

----

She parades the animals around, giving them each different voices, with them all commenting on how hot Lucas was during the basketball game. He laughs, and grabs each one off her, following that up with a kiss every time she pouts after the animals form a growing heap on the floor.

Her job of distracting him is done when the lights go off, and Lucas looks at her with a worried expression.

"Tell me that there's just a temporary power cut."

Brooke giggles and Lucas runs a hand through his hair roughly. "Maybe we're trapped."

"Tell me you didn't plan this."

She giggles again, biting her lips as she waits for Lucas' reaction. "This has always been one of my fantasies."

"Brooke…Is this the place you meant we could stay?"

"I told you it would be more fun than my place."

"This is illegal! We're trespassing!"

"Oh lighten up." She tells him, rolling her eyes. "It'll be fun. I promise."

Everything with Brooke Davis is fun. It's exciting and Lucas can't think of anyone better to spend his evening with than the beautiful cheerleader.

She's hushing him now, saying that they have to be quiet until everyone leaves the store.

"Did you do research or something?" Lucas asks, wondering just how Brooke had managed to work everything out to go in their favour.

"I shop here all the time." She shrugs. "I know what time lock up is."

He nods, not really caring whether or not she's done research. They're here, together, and that means everything to Lucas right now. He's almost done silently figuring out what's going on in Brooke's mind when she catches him off guard, pinning him down with her lithe body resting on top of him.

"What…"

She giggles a little, pinning a strand of hair behind her ears. "I just always wanted to do that."

----

Brooke notices him checking his watch, and rolling her eyes, laughs a little. "Is it getting past your bedtime?"

His stony expression is enough to make her stop, and just as she's about to apologise for whatever nerve she just hit, Lucas gets in there first.

"I'm just a little tired."

"Well," Brooke raises an eyebrow. "We could sleep."

He knows that with Brooke beside him, sleep isn't something Lucas is going to get much of. He thinks about checking his cell for missed calls from Karen, who still has no idea where he his. But he remembers the disappointment of last time, and decided against it, instead, letting her lead him down the abandoned escalators on the store that doesn't know they're there.

"C'mon." Brooke pats the soft spot beside her. "It's really comfy."

Comfy it might be, but when there are so many other beds in the furniture department, Lucas feels too sleazy crawling in bedside the girl who has rid herself of her uniform, leaving just underwear to Lucas' already creative imagination.

"I could just sleep in this one if you like." He gestures towards a slightly smaller bed with a blue duvet.

"Are you turning me down?"

"Never." He grins, a little embarrassed at the fact that yet again, Brooke's had her way with him.

He tries his hardest not to look as he draws back the covers, yet when he catches a glimpse of red silk, it's all he can do to keep from exploring her body there and then. It's a giggle from her, and a stifled moan of pleasure from him as Brooke's hand roam across his chest, and she presses herself against him, lips sealing the deal.

And when she finally does fall asleep, tired and limp against him, Lucas can stare up at the painted orange ceiling, with it's little silver stars. Almost as if it was created for this exact situation, Lucas grants a smile as Brooke curls her fingers around him, and he watches their sherbet sunset.

_Hey, hey my playmate,  
Let me lay waste to thee,  
Burned down their hanging trees,  
It's hot here, hot here, hot here, hot here.  
Got a curse we cannot lift,  
Shines when the sunshine shifts,  
There's a curse comes with a kiss,  
The bite that binds the gift that gives._

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Please review :) xxx


	10. Honey Haze

**A/N- **Lots and lots of thank you's for your reviews last chapter guys! I forgot to write the name of the song I used last chapter, so for those that wanted to know, it was 'Wolf Like Me' by tv on the radio. Hope you enjoy this chapter-don't forget to review! xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 10: Honey Haze

"You know my Mom is going to kill me right?" Lucas tells Brooke, rubbing the back of his neck harshly as he paces their cell. She simply giggles, blissfully unaware of Karen Scott's wrath.

"It's not funny!" Lucas continues. "She's running for mayor and I end up in jail!"

"Aww come on Luke." Brooke tries to make him see the funny side. "It was fun up until we got busted. Still kinda is."

"We got arrested for trespassing. How the Hell am I going to explain this to her?"

"I don't know." Keith's voice booms from the corridor. "But you'd better start thinking."

"Oh crap." Lucas mutters as the door to their cell is unlocked, and Keith's harsh face tells Lucas to get out of there immediately.

"Hi Mr Scott, I'm…" Brooke begins in a cheery manner, only to be cut off by the man in front of her.

"Brooke Davis, I know." He tells her.

"Sorry to meet like this." She tries a flirty giggle, but is thrown off course when all she receives from the parent of the boy she's starting to fall for, is a hard stare.

"I called your parents but they weren't home." Keith says. "I suggest you go there anyway. Lucas won't be around for a while."

"Look, it wasn't Lucas' fault." Brooke tries explaining. "I made him come to the mall with me and we tried shouting for someone to come and unlock the store doors but…"

"Give it up Brooke." Keith replies coldly. "Lucas can make his own decisions."

----

He couldn't kiss her goodbye because Keith pulled him away towards his truck before Lucas could get the chance. So he's hoping that she'll have a nice life, because he's not even sure that they'll speak anymore after this. Keith has explained that he'll drive Lucas to school every morning, and pick him up every night.

Lucas doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Whitey.

The consent form he needed to have signed by a parent in order to play basketball was forged during a study period, and he's sure that if he tells Whitey he's grounded, the coach might try a phone call in order to persuade Karen Scott to change her mind. Then Lucas might not see the next day.

"I'm running for major and you're messing around getting arrested for trespassing in a department store! It made news Lucas!" Karen spits. "Things like this always make news! How do you think this makes me look?"

He's not paying attention, not really. He can only focus on what Brooke might be doing now. He's sure her parents won't mind too much-they never seem to mind when she parties on school nights, and when her report card with it's countless bad grades makes its way to their hands.

Lucas guesses that she's shopping, or perhaps tanning herself a little more on the beach. After all, it's the perfect morning for such activities, and Brooke is too beautiful to concern herself with any other kind of activities anyway.

"And Brooke Davis?" She snorts. "Please."

"What the Hell is your problem?" Lucas finally relents, the comment about Brooke hitting him like a slap across the face.

"You're wasting valuable time with the school's leading prostitute and you're asking me what _my _problem is?" Karen shouts. "It gives the wrong damned impression Lucas! Take her parents, they're never home. We provide a safe place for you here. We're always home."

"You might be _here._" Lucas tells her. "But you've never been _home._"

"You're not seeing her." Keith spits. "And that's the end of it."

----

Time alone, for Lucas, is time wasted. Prior to meeting the one and only Brooke Davis, solitude was everything to the blonde-haired boy whose greatest companions were the authors of his favourite literature.

He tries to tell himself that a little time away from Brooke will be a good thing. After all, he can catch up on his reading and study, or perhaps even write something of his own. But she's infiltrating every single one of his thoughts, and he can do nothing to remove her. (He doesn't even want to try.)

He's tried the door leading out of his room, and after discovering it was locked, (not that he thought it wouldn't be) he tries the window. That's locked too, and all Lucas can manage is a cussing blow before collapsing on his bed, a shaky hand clutched to his mouth as he tries to figure out a way to escape his hell hole.

His pillow still smells like her-the vanilla shampoo he's been so accustomed to smelling, seems to be cruelly stronger than ever, and Lucas has to simply imagine his favourite girl laying there with him.

He dresses her in simple jeans and a tank top-nothing too exposing, though allowing him to see the freckles over tanned skin that the sun has produced. He lets hair stay in waves, a little sand still tangled in it from an afternoon spent at the beach.

He catches a patch of sunburn on the back of her neck as he's playing with her hair, and warns her of the dangers of illness, before telling her to wear more sunscreen next time. She's giggling and rolling her eyes at him, but kisses him and says her thank you's for his care.

Lucas is only snapped out of his beloved daydream by some comment Karen is making to Keith in the room next door. He can't quite hear what they're saying, but it makes him think back to his Mother's words from earlier.

"_Take her parents, they're never home."_

He wonders whether this has any underlying meaning that he has yet to discover. Brooke has never mentioned her parents-not to him at least, so he's guessing they perhaps don't play a hugely significant role in her life. Yet then he realises she hasn't mentioned much to Lucas, so he has no cause for trying to divulge hidden information that might not even be there to find.

He tries to remember his daydream once again, but this time, every little bite of detail is tainted with the knowledge that Brooke Davis might need saving, just like she saved him from a life of boredom and loneliness. His memory flits back to yesterday, and their conversation on the coach.

Lucas makes his way to his c.d collection, hunting around until he finds the Oasis album he's looking for. He waits for the lyrics of 'Wonderwall' to fill his head, and as he comes across the line she mentioned, Lucas is desperate to find out more about Brooke.

Perhaps their snippet of a conversation about how they really feel, was an invitation for him to help her, to do his best to find out more and then protect her from whatever it is she needs saving from.

But he's grounded, and he's not sure how he can even go about helping the girl who seems to have absolutely everything under her power and control.

----

_Dear Lucas,_

_So I guess your Mom was definitely mad that we got busted huh? Well in true romantic fashion, I am writing you a love letter so that we can still talk after school._

He's not got past the second sentence before he hears giggling outside, followed by a scrabbling sound that gets him curious enough to look up from the piece of pretty stationary he's holding.

"Brooke?" He has to whisper, for fear of his Mom hearing, and Brooke being made to leave.

"Hey Broody boy. You got my letter?"

"I was just reading it." He tells her. "If you were outside, why didn't you just knock on the door?"

"Because I thought this way was more romantic." She laughs a little, propping herself up outside against his door. "Unless you'd prefer a text message?"

"My Mom took my cell off me." Lucas replies. "And I'd prefer the letter anyway."

"See? I'm very creative when it comes to stuff like this."

Lucas nods silently to himself, a giddy smile creeping across his face. He's glad she can't see just how much she makes him happy, because he figures she might find his infatuation pathetic, and then their time spent together might stop. It's already too close to being non-existent, so Lucas can't take any chances.

"How am I supposed to sent you letters back?" He whispers blindly.

"Post them under your door." Brooke tells him. "Then I can get them on a night. They'll make great bedtime reading."

Lucas chuckles a little, making himself a little more comfy on the floor beside the door. "Tell me why we don't just give each other the letters at school?"

"Because then there would be no sneaking around. And that wouldn't be as fun."

"Are your parents mad?" Lucas suddenly asks before he looses confidence and the thing he most wants to know is pushed to the back of his mind.

"No." She replies quickly, with a shrug for the boy who can't see anyway.

"Are they home right now Brooke?"

"No." She replies again. "Why?"

"I…" He begins, but gives up, not wanting to upset Brooke with anything that she might have to tell him. "I was just wondering if they had given you a punishment."

"Because I'm such a _bad girl_?"

She's using that whisper-voice that Lucas loves so much, and as he feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, he can't care about her parents or why they might not be home. He's amazed at the sexual spin she can put into any conversation, so much so, that he's forgotten to answer.

"Lucas?"

"Sorry, I was just…um…"

"Fantasising about me being spanked right?" She giggles, and then Lucas has forgotten what he meant to find out anyway.

"So I should go because I promised Peyton I'd help her find an outfit that will make Nathan jealous for tomorrow night."

"I thought they were dating?"

"I'd say more hooking-up than dating." Brooke tells him, raising a sceptical eyebrow at the status of her best friend's relationship.

"What's happening Sunday?"

"Nathan's having a party. I was gonna tell you but then I figured you were grounded so…"

"It's fine." Lucas tells her half-heartedly. This is the beginning of the end for them, he figures, so there's no point in pretending he could ever go to this party anyway.

----

_Dear Brooke,_

He's stuck after that, and he figures that the words 'dear Brooke' won't really cut it as a meaningful letter. He can't really find the words to write down that will tell her just how much this ridiculous punishment is killing him, and how much he wants to kiss her.

So he simply tells her to listen to James Morrison's 'Wonderful World' because that's how she makes him feel. He tells her that he hopes she has a great time at Nathan's party, and that he's looking forward to her next letter.

Maybe he'll try ask some questions next time, in a hope to find out more about her. But Lucas figures that if she doesn't mention anything, she doesn't want him to ask. He has secrets too, so he's not one to judge. He simply wants to know.

When the next day rolls around, Lucas finds himself propped up against the wall, head on top of his hands as the small draft blowing from outside makes him a little too cold. Beside him though, is a letter, with his name scrawled in curly neat handwriting across the envelope. He wonders whether Brooke sprays perfume across her paper, because everything that comes from her smells sweet and tempting, just like her skin does.

Her letter isn't like the last one though, and it's not like the one he sent her. It's more like the notes she sends in class-the ones that in no uncertain terms, lets him know that she's bored, and she needs some sort of entertainment.

The words tell him to be dressed in a nice blue shirt and jeans, with combed hair and a spritz of aftershave tonight. He laughs at her choice of words, and whispers her name, just in case she's waiting outside. When there's no reply, he guesses she came over on her way either to or from a party last night and is now recovering from alcohol-induced tiredness. Lucas isn't quite sure what Brooke has in mind for him tonight, but he's anxious and more than curious for that time to come.

----

"We're going out to dinner." Keith tells Lucas that night. He guesses it's somewhere expensive, because Keith is wearing a shirt and tie, and his Mom has her most elegant jewellery around her neck.

"I trust that you'll obey your punishment?"

Lucas nods and Karen grants that with a small nod of her own as she links her arm through Keith's.

"I mean it Lucas, you can go live with your father if you disobey us."

He nods again, that lump is his throat seemingly growing bigger. He has to take a chance of being caught with Brooke Davis though, because she means more to him than simply existing in his 'family' ever did.

He hops into the shower as soon as he hears the key turn in the lock of the back door, the water pouring over him as he forces himself not to guess what Brooke might be wearing. He's come to the conclusion that she's taking him to Nathan's party, and that they won't be back until late. Hoping that his parents will be too drunk or tired to care about checking in on him, Lucas just has to go along with Brooke's plan in silence, knowing that now, more than ever, secrets matter.

A letter slipped under his door tells him to go to the window upstairs and look out. He does as he's told (when has it ever been any different when it comes to Brooke Davis?) and when he gets up there, lifting the window up so as to see her properly, she motions for him to climb out of there.

"Are you crazy?" Lucas asks. "I could kill myself!"

"Aww come one." Brooke rolls her eyes. "It's not that far to jump once you get down to the edge of the roof."

He remembers to shut the window behind him, so as not to arouse any suspicions from Karen and Keith upon their return, and sets his feet on the ground to a round of applause from Brooke, before receiving a glossy kiss.

She's not wearing jeans or a skirt this time, but a pair of cool white linen pants that make her look like some sort of angel, teamed with pale pink flip flops and a pretty matching top. Her hair is wavy-just like he's imagined the day before, and he can tell that whatever party Nathan is hosting, it will be held on the beach.

Lucas is right, and when they get there, many girls in bikinis swamp Brooke, telling her how pretty she looks, each offering her drinks which she accepts. The popular choice of beach party drink, Lucas observes, seems to be cranberry juice with vodka for the girls, and beer straight from the keg for the guys.

Because of his new position in high school society, Lucas is also offered drinks, which he accepts so as not to appear rude. Though he's grateful to be here, Lucas is beginning to wonder what the real attraction is of these parties. They all seem to be similar-people getting drunk and hooking up, dancing provocatively, and naked swimming in the sea.

Yet when Brooke removes the beer from his hand, placing it on a table before leading him to the spot on the beach which is being used as the dance floor, he sees the attraction. Dancing with Brooke Davis is like being in another world. She has the ability to still look classy while grinding herself into him, and arm slung across his shoulder as her hips swing from one side to the other.

Her top is beginning to ride up, exposing tanned skin than Lucas allows his fingers to reside over, his own body forced to move as she turns around with her back to him, an arm bent backwards in order to still have that contact she loves.

She's plumping her lips as Lucas lets his hand wander up the side of her body, tracing the outline of her perfect body until his fingers reach that spot just below her ear, tilting her head to the side. He moves the silky hair away before allowing his lips to graze the small patch of skin, causing a small smirk of satisfaction to play across Brooke's lips as yet again, she's got him to do what she wants.

When she remembers the parties before she'd met Lucas properly, she realises how much better they are now, and showing her appreciation, she grabs the hand that had been previously resting on her hip, across the front of her body, holding on to it with one of her own hands as she continues to fall against the beat of the heavy music. She has him in a honey haze, and Lucas can do nothing to get out of it. He doesn't want to anyway.

----

He knows he's been caught out when he turns the corner of his street, and he can see his living room illuminated. But he can't care, not really, because tonight's dancing with Brooke has been enough to rid him of thoughts about anything else. He's sure he can still feel her body up against him, with the music thumping in his ears. Perhaps that thumping is just his heartbeat increasing.

"What's…" Lucas trails off as he trips over a collection of bags in the hallway. Looking up, he finds Karen and Keith, each with a mug of steaming coffee. "All this?"

"I love you Lucas, I really do." Karen begins. "But I explained to you the consequences of what would happen if you disobeyed us again."

"I can't go live with…"

"I've already telephoned him. You'll stay here tonight, and move in with him tomorrow after school."

"But Mom…"

"No." Karen holds up her hand. "I warned you and you didn't listen. I have my campaign to think about and you running around at all hours and getting arrested is stopping me."

"I won't do it again."

"You already did Lucas." Karen shakes her head sadly. "I'm sorry."

And he's left then, to comfort himself in his blue room, which seems like only a shell. His books and his c.ds are still on their shelves, yet it doesn't feel like his room to Lucas, not any more.

He wonders whether he can explain any of this to Brooke, or whether it will have to go unsaid. Either way, he'll be moving into Dan Scott's house, only doors away from that of the girl in question.

And now he's beginning to debate whether not waking up tomorrow would be the best thing. For everyone.

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This was my longest chapter of this story so far! Please review guys, much love xxx 


	11. Cinnamon Lies

**A/N-** Just a huge thank you to you lovely lovely reviewers because you make my day :) Hope you enjoy this chapter, and pretty pleaase review at the end xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 11: Cinnamon Lies

She's not speaking to him. He figures she's sent the countless letters that could have totalled up over a week, and he hasn't replied to a single one of them. It's not his fault-he can't receive those letters anymore because his address has changed. Lucas desperately wants to tell her to send her letters to 52 Lumina Av, only three doors down from where she lives. But then she'd have to know the reason why he's staying at Nathan's house, and then the reasons why he didn't tell her.

They're sat in history (yet again) being bored with the facts of the Industrial Revolution in London. Lucas never used to get bored during history-he always used to find it so interesting. Brooke had always been bored, but up until a few months ago, Lucas hadn't known. Therefore he couldn't care.

Things are different now though, and he knows that look on her face means that she'd rather be anywhere other than here. So Lucas does the only thing he knows he can: sends her a note.

_Dear Brooke, _

_I know you're mad at me, but I can explain. Meet me near the doors to the gym in a few minutes._

_Lucas X _

He knows it certainly isn't a declaration of the feelings he wants her to know, but it's a start. And it takes him a further ten minutes to pluck up the courage to tap her shoulder and sent the note across the isle.

When it does reach her finger tips, (her perfectly manicured nails are painted dark pink today) Lucas watches Brooke read the note before turning round to him, her eyes a little glazed over.

"Perhaps you should just pay attention to the lesson." She whispers, and it's almost as though Lucas can sense venom spewing from her mouth. But then he watches her shrug, and with that saddened look on his face, Lucas whispers back,

"Please Brooke."

The brunette nods, her hair curled lightly today with a thin pink headband visible as completion of her outfit. He wonders just how long it takes Brooke to get ready for school on a daily basis, as she seems to look like a model every single day. Perhaps he's just biased though, he concludes, because she's kissing him and hugging him and sleeping next to him in a department store's bed.

Lucas has already planned his escape today-a forged note from his mother to say that she will be coming to pick him up for an appointment which has gone undescribed. He can't risk making too many lies up, and he's not sure what appointment he might have anyway. He's just glad to have had a quiet night last night, without any bullying from Dan or interruptions from the various other people that are often present in the Scott household.

Living with Dan has been, so far, somewhat of a quiet affair, with him being able to keep himself to himself, only emerging from his room at dinnertime. Dinner at 52 Lumina Av is eaten in silence anyway, broken only occasionally by a few sly remarks from Dan about Lucas' point average on the basketball team compared to that of Nathan.

He exits the classroom with only an extended hand and a nod from his teacher, signalling that it's fine for Lucas to leave. He's half expecting Brooke not to come, but he realises that the lure of at least ten minutes spent away from history is appealing, even for someone that's mad at him.

----

He's almost given up. He's ready to punch that gymnasium wall and head back whatever lesson he has next, because she hasn't showed, and he doesn't want to delude himself by reasoning that she might.

"Leaving so soon?" She's twirling that hair band in her left hand, eyebrows raised as she walks closer to him, a small smirk playing across her lips. He's transported to the time back in the gym at basketball tryouts, the time where she had no idea of his existence, and he had no idea of her powers over him.

"I didn't think you were going to come."

"I hate it when people stand you up." She tells him. "I told you that once, remember?"

Lucas nods. He does remember. He remembers everything about Brooke Penelope Davis, from the bellybutton jewellery she was wearing when they first met properly, to the way her hair looked like chocolate swirls when he took her to Nathan's party. If he was slightly unsure about his ability to memorise every detail, he would have been sure to keep a journal, just so that he couldn't regret not remembering her.

"So I should explain." Lucas begins, checking for any lurking students that might either be skipping class or simply wishing to hear all about the queen bee's life. Nobody's quite sure of the relationship between one Brooke Davis and Lucas Scott. All they know is that he plays basketball. Nothing more.

"We don't have to stay here." She offers. "I have my car. We could go somewhere."

Somewhere to Brooke, could be another state. But Lucas doesn't care, because even if she drove him all the way to Mexico, he would do what she requested as long as she was there with him. He just has to hope that her idea of somewhere today, isn't Mexico, but rather, somewhere close by so that he can't be eligible for any sort of punishment from Dan.

"Somewhere?" Lucas asks, yet Brooke doesn't answer.

Simply shrugging, the girl replies "Anywhere." before nodding her head in the direction of the school parking lot.

They have to duck as they pass the windows of the staff room and then, the history classroom which they should be in right now. Lucas' heart is racing. Brooke's simply giggling.

"You're always so serious." She tells him after he asks why she's laughing. Lucas isn't quite sure whether this is a valid reason to be laughing at someone, but he's just glad she's come with him.

"Is that a bad thing?" He wants to know, because if she thinks it is, he figures that maybe he could try and change. If she wants him to be more fun, Lucas guesses he could skip a few more classes in her presence (obviously making up for it by studying twice as much at his new 'home') or maybe take her out on some sort of 'fun date.' Yet he's not sure whether they're dating-he hasn't ever had this much contact with a girl before, and if not, then it's not his place to ask Brooke out.

"No." She shrugs, which means to Lucas, that he'll do. He can only wonder how long for.

----

"Where are we Brooke?" Lucas asks. She hasn't been driving for long, which means that they're definitely nowhere near Mexico. They're parked in some sort of concrete lot, on the outskirts of town, Lucas guesses from the look of the buildings. A lot of them are grey, bland, lacking any sort of appeal other than Brooke Davis sat outside of them in a convertible powder-blue beetle.

"The Blue Post."

"Where?"

"It's my favourite bar." She tells him. "Now explain what the hell you've been doing."

It's not easy to lie to Brooke Davis. She looks so sweet and beautiful that Lucas feels more than guilty for not telling the truth. But the truth comes with too many secrets to unfold, and he figures he's gotten in the way of his Mom's campaign for major enough already. The last thing she needs is to be exposed as Dan Scott's former girlfriend who fell pregnant with his child in senior year of high school. It wouldn't set a good example, and Lucas doesn't want himself to be judged any more than he has been in the past. Besides, he's unsure of what Brooke's reaction might be.

"My Mom found out about the letters. She said that if I couldn't abide by my punishment, then I would have to go somewhere where I could." Lucas begins, a lump forming in his throat about the amount of detail he will have to come up with in order to make Brooke believe him.

"But I was always so careful for her not to see me." Brooke interrupts, a frown spreading across her face.

"But she saw me." Lucas replies quickly. "And Keith told her about you. She put two and two together and…"

"We got busted?" Brooke giggles a little, somewhat nervously Lucas thinks.

"Anyway, to learn my lesson, she's making me live with my Aunt and my Cousin in Cleland Heights."

"Wow, she must really hate me." Brooke laughs a tiny amount, her smile faltering when she thinks Lucas isn't looking. "You know, you could have just told me to stop writing the letters."

"I love the letters." Lucas said. "And I wanted to tell you at school, but I wasn't sure what you'd think, and then you weren't talking to me and…"

"Hey." Brooke cuts in, stopping Lucas by planting a small sugary kiss on his lips. "It doesn't matter."

He wants to scream right now, tell her that what he's just said is all a lie, and that honestly, he's living three doors away from her, in one of her best friend's houses. He feels dirty, like he's just committed some horrible crime, and in some ways, Lucas guesses he has. But these lies, are sweet lies, cinnamon lies to make everything seem okay, and to hide things that are better off left unsaid.

"So we could actually go inside the bar." Brooke tells Lucas. "I came prepared."

Lucas wants to ask, but he feels that already today, too many questions have been answered, so he stays surrounded by intrigue at the smile on Brooke's face, the same smile that he's put on there only moments ago by filling her head with false information.

----

They've been there too long. Lucas can tell he's drunk-he's never had this many beers before, and he's sure Brooke is following suit. She's made them fake I'Ds, using Lucas' yearbook photo to make him into 'Henry Reid,' a twenty-two year-old from Wawaset Park. In turn, she has made herself into 'Gretchen Frances,' twenty-one, and also from Wawaset Park.

They've played games of pool, and Lucas has lost to her too many times to recall. The first time, he let her win, after she told him in an effortlessly sexy voice that she loves beating boys at pool. The rest of the times, after heavy kissing, Lucas was just too weak to even hold the cue properly, let alone focus on the balls he was supposed to be potting.

And now, she's got him at the bar again, talking about their shared passion for the television show 'Weird Science' in between sipping beer straight from glass mugs.

"So what's your take on tatoos?" She asks, pushing herself closer to him as Lucas' mouth hangs slightly open, his eyes needing to focus on some part of her body.

"I don't know." He replied slowly. "It depends."

"Come with me." She tells him, almost pulling Lucas off his stool as she leads him to some sort of stone wall corridor leading off the bar.

She's resting up against the wall as Lucas places an arm above her head, supporting his weight as he watches in slight confusion while Brooke undoes the button on her jeans.

"What do you think," She begins, zipper going down as she folds back the material. "About this tattoo?"

He watches, amazed, as her eyes travel to her hip, on which a Chinese symbol has been inked to perfection over silky smooth skin. The bikini bottoms he's seen he wear have never allowed him access to this artwork, and he's entirely grateful that she's showing him now. It's yet another thing about Brooke Davis to remember, but Lucas knows there's no chance of him ever forgetting this moment.

"That tattoo," He begins, almost drooling before his eyes meet back with hers. "Is very, very…" He lays a finger almost on her lips before whispering "sexy," upon which Brooke bridges the gap between them, and every cinnamon lie that he's told just hours ago slips from his mind.

----

His arm is hurting like mad, even after all of the alcohol and the kisses from Brooke. She's persuaded him to get a matching symbol to hers inked on the top of his arm. He tells her it hurts. She tells him it looks sexy.

Lucas is just glad they're together right now.

They'd had to catch the bus back because Brooke was drunk, and although she tried to make him let her, Lucas hadn't allowed the brunette to drive her car. He said they'd get it tomorrow. She'd said they'd Christen it tomorrow, and Lucas wasn't clear on what she meant.

He'd walked her home, telling her that he would catch the next bus back to Cleland Heights. Really, he was only walking a few metres up the street.

Expecting to find the house in darkness, Lucas jumps upon meeting Dan in his dressing gown in the kitchen.

"You're drunk." He tells Lucas in disgust, almost as though he has no idea of what his other son gets up to. A smirk is crossing his face, and Lucas can only guess that it doesn't mean anything good. Yet it doesn't matter, because Brooke is talking to him again, and she'd shown him her 'fun' tattoo.

"I think you need a punishment." His blue eyes narrow, and Lucas waits for an expansion. "_Son._"

He's ordered not to see Brooke Davis out of school-Dan can guess it's her after what Karen had told him, and after witnessing Nathan drunk after a night out in her care. Lucas is trying to ignore him though, because he'll still see her at school, and she thinks he's staying with his Aunt anyway.

But his punishment is about to get a whole lot worse.

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I'd just like to know, whether if One Tree Hill wasn't picked up for another season, how many people would still read fan fiction? Not just this story, but how many of you guys would still browse this website?

Please review! Gracie xxx


	12. Liqourice Tears

**Disclaimer- **I stupidly forgot to mention that the bar scene last chapter was obviously not mine, so I am disclaiming now before anyone sues me.

**A/N- **So we got a fifth season! yay! and in the words of a certain Karen Roe, "Can I get a woot woot?" Even though we have a much-anticipated seaosn five, I'm still very happy to know that lots of you would still browse fan fiction :) I didn't want to stop writing Brucas, so I'm glad I will still have an audience :) Major thank you's to you lovely, lovely reviewers for last chapter (and of course all the other chapters before that.) I'll take this oppertunity to advertise (yes, this promotion crap again) my new one shot 'All Mayhem, No Marriage' It's a Brucas as always, and now I will just shut up.

Enjoy this chapter! xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 12: Liquorice Tears 

"You lied to me."

It's only early morning, and Lucas isn't prepared for the arrival of such confrontation from a very pissed-off-looking Brooke. She's wearing her cheerleading uniform, yet another reminder that Lucas has a basketball game tonight, where his father will be watching his every move.

"I don't know what…"

"You're not staying at your cousin's house."

"I.." He stutters, but Brooke cuts in yet again.

"I live down the same _fucking _street as Nathan. He's one of my best friends so did you _not_ think that I would find out?"

Her tone is icy cold, and Lucas hangs his head in shame as he realises that his world is about to come to crushing blows with the force of nature that is Brooke Penelope Davis. He feels guilty for his lies, and the way she kissed him after thinking the whole thing was her fault.

In some respects, Lucas figures, it _is_ her fault. But he wouldn't have changed anything about the past few months.

"I'm really sorry Brooke." Lucas begins, squinting his eyes as she simply shakes her head.

"It doesn't matter." Brooke practically waves it away.

"So we're cool?"

"Yeah." She shrugs. "I suppose I'll just see you around."

----

Lucas should have guessed that _"I'll just see you around" _would mean no more kissing, no more letters, no more cutting classes and sneaking around. But being too naïve, he hadn't, and the idea of not seeing Brooke Davis in the same way is almost too much to bare.

He wonders how it is, that she can sit in History, barely an arm stretch away and not talk to him. He wants to send her the notes they used to write, back when things were supposedly less complicated, just to make her smile and turn around and forgive him in an instant. He wants her to entertain him with her paper games about what his favourite number is, and what his favourite sexual position might be.

He doesn't have one of course (a position, not a number) because the only girl he's ever kissed properly is her, and there's no chance of him venturing to another girl's bed any time soon. Hell, he hadn't even ventured to _her _bed.

Lucas questions whether if he told her everything right now, about his Mom and the post-partum depression she suffered, about Dan and his incessant bullying and favouritism of Nathan, it would make a difference. He wonders whether if he told her about his Mom's campaign, about how she's so wrapped up in it that family means nothing to her not now, not anymore, that she would start sneaking over to Dan's house, cheering him up with midnight sleepovers and afternoons on the beach.

But Lucas isn't going to tell Brooke any of this, because he's not sure she'd even bother turning around if he asked it of her. She was fine before they'd had any contact, and another friend or boyfriend just wasn't something she was in desperate need of. He already knew the competition he faced every single day for Brooke Davis' affections-her head cheerleader power combined with beauty and ridiculous sexiness made her the target of teenage boys' lust.

To her, he's nothing any more special than the next guy.

----

"Look man." Nathan addresses Lucas in the boys' locker room. "About that thing with Brooke, it wasn't me that told her."

"What do you…"

"I know about your little story about where you're living."

"How do you…" He's cut off again, but he's getting answers faster this way, so Lucas can't care.

"She told me. Said you were living with your Aunt in Cleland Heights as a punishment for seeing her." Nathan tells him, rolling his eyes at Brooke's description of their stolen moments together. It had made her smile. It had made Nathan feel sick.

"Then who told her?"

"Dan."

"Dan? Why would it matter to him that I was seeing Brooke?" Lucas asks bewildered.

"Because he seems to have some sort of vendetta against you. Sorry dude, I just thought you should know."

When Lucas was younger, he would question why Dan was being so horrible to him, why he seemed to take every available opportunity to make him miserable, and why he would swig whisky straight from the bottle in his den after dinner.

Now, too many years of silence later, Lucas had figured out the answers to those questions. Karen getting pregnant ruined his chances of becoming the basketball star he had always wanted to be. Demanding that he do the right thing, Karen had made Dan be there for her and Lucas, financially. No longer being able to afford a college tuition and private basketball coaching, Dan had been forced to go into car sales, eventually making a name for himself as a dealer.

He took every opportunity to make Lucas miserable, because he hadn't wanted him there, not when he had managed to build a life with Deb and his younger son Nathan. Lucas being present in the Scott household had destroyed Dan's idea of a perfect family, because he was the illegitimate child that was only forced upon him because of Karen's illness. He was only supposed to stay for a couple months.

Lucas had stayed there for eleven years.

"Hey Lucas." Nathan asked. "You okay?"

"Fine." Was all he could mutter, before that adrenaline pumping in his body took over, and the team made their way out onto the court for their important game to reach the next round.

----

They won. But she doesn't congratulate him the way she did the last time. Instead, Brooke stands sullen on the sidelines as Peyton kisses Nathan, and the other girls crowd around their respective boyfriends, the singletons simply joining in anyway.

He catches her eye, shinny brown from across the court, hoping for a smile. But Lucas doesn't get one, instead, he just watches quietly as she exits the gymnasium, seeking solace in the comforting showers in the girls' locker room away from prying eyes and over-analytical supporters. She doesn't want to be questioned, not now. Not when she's questioning her own actions anyway.

Lucas doesn't party with the rest of the team at Skillz's house. He shares a car ride with Dan, trying to block out his constant criticisms of his jump shot, and after that, his boasting about Nathan's.

Instead, when he returns home, (Dan's nonetheless) his bedroom becomes his haven, his sanctuary, the blue paint mirroring that of the bedroom he used to occupy back at his Mom's house. There, it's silent. He can imagine the fun Brooke will have at the after-party. She had fun before him, and that's not going to change after him. Lucas Scott isn't fun. Brooke Davis is. She can have her fun without him. He can't have his fun without her.

He dresses her in a daring skirt tonight, a way above the knee, showing off skin that's tanned and silky smooth with a halter neck top to match. It's bright pink, almost dark pink silk, complimenting the very dark brown of her skirt, and he teams her outfit with a thin scarf around her head, leaving a few strands of tousled hair to frame her petite face with the rest flowing around her shoulders. She's giggly tonight, grabbing his hand when she sits herself on his lap, a little away from the speakers so that they can have 'their' time. She pushes his hand from her knee, a little further up her leg to the hem of her skirt, his fingertips tickling lightly as she bends a little to kiss him, lip gloss smearing but she doesn't mind.

She whispers that they're good together, removing all doubt from his head, because she really is kissing him, her arms wrapping around his neck to allow her fingers to play with his hair-lighter from days spent with her on the beach.

She's smiling, dimples emerging, raspy voice filling his ears as she tells him she'll be right back, she just needs to go dance to this song with Peyton. They have a routine, she says.

Brooke's dancing. He can't get enough of the way her body moves against the beat, rubbing across Peyton every now and again, a smile escaping from the blonde's mouth, a gasp escaping from Lucas'. He chugs a little of the beer she's given him and continues to watch, lips slightly parted for when she comes back to meet them with hers.

Her skirt is beginning to ride up. Lucas is starting to wonder whether if she continues dancing in this manner, she might expose the tiny bikini she's wearing underneath. He imagines her telling him that if he's good, she might let him see it later. Later is too far away. Lucas doesn't want to wait.

"Did you like my dancing?" She asks him, eyebrow kinked in the way she always does when she's trying to be cute. Lucas nods, telling her that of course he does, but he likes it better when she's dancing with him.

"Then come on." She whispers in his ear, the hairs on his arms and neck standing up on end as she leads him to where she's just been dancing, a few jealous looks on guys' faces, a very happy look on Lucas'.

Of course, his daydream is too short-lived, because when he gets to the point of a few girls removing their tops, continuing to dance in bikinis and skirts due to the hot Summer night, Brooke included, Nathan knocks on the door, home a little too early for usual, and a little too sober.

"Brooke's one of my best friends." He tells a slightly confused Lucas, grabbing the soft basketball from the corner of his brother's room, throwing it effortlessly through the net. "She doesn't date guys, not normally, not for longer than a week."

Lucas doesn't want to imagine her with other guys. He's gotten used to the idea of her being with only him, kissing only him and curling up in department stores with only him.

"And she's never one to miss a party, especially not after a game we won."

"I'm not sure what you mean." Lucas tells him, eyes narrowed into a squint as he tries to fathom what Nathan may be telling him.

"She wasn't there tonight Lucas, and ever since she found out about your little fairy story, she's not been exactly…"

"Cheery?" Lucas offers.

"Right. And when she's not cheery, Peyton thinks there's something wrong."

"So…"

"So when Peyton thinks there's something wrong, she tries to talk to me about it, and I'm kinda crap at that sort of stuff." Nathan tells him, rubbing his own forehead a little roughly. "And if I can't figure out what it is that's wrong, Peyton doesn't want to…" He trails off, eyebrows raised. "You know…"

Lucas is about to shake his head, but then suddenly gets it, his own eyebrows raising. "Oh."

"Yeah, so if you could explain…"

"Explain what?" He snaps. "That I lied to her because I was afraid that she wouldn't like me if I told her I'm Dan Scott's illegitimate reject of a son? That my Mom's more bothered about her campaign than about me, and that the last seventeen fucking years of my life have been a completely false appearance?"

"Um…" Nathan's not quite sure what to say, shrugging his shoulders. "Maybe leave the Jerry Springer crap out. But you could tell her you're sorry?"

Lucas nods, a little embarrassed, yet at the same time, knowing that a simple 'I'm sorry' isn't going to cut it for Brooke Davis.

"Thanks." Nathan replies, exiting Lucas' room as he calls, "And for the record, Peyton thinks Brooke really likes you, you know?"

Maybe it's supposed to make him feel better, hopeful even. The fact that Brooke could possibly like him even half as much as he likes her, an aid to boost his morale. Yet all he feels is darkness. In his blue room, crying blackened tears, liquorice tears for the life that was kind to him only once, (in the way of allowing him to meet a certain Brooke Penelope Davis) and that took everything away from him when he least deserved it.

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Okay, so I was thinking for the next chapter, I would write more from Brooke's point of view, just to allow you lovely readers an insight into her thoughts. It will be the only chapter from her point of view, so what do you guys think?

Please review, love Gracie xxx


	13. Cloudy Frosting

**Disclaimer-** Before I forget, one of the scenes in this chapter isn't really mine. I pinched the idea from the show, but changed the words, so I kinda own it and kinda don't. Whatever, just don't sue me. 

**A/N-** THANK YOU to everyone who reviewied last chapter, you guys really make it all worthwhile. As promised, this is from Brooke's point of view. Hope you enjoy, and don't forget to review :) xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 13: Cloudy Frosting

She's the party girl, the head cheerleader, the fashion princess. She loves it. Life has been good to her, Brooke Penelope Davis, overall, especially the social aspect. Friends come in abundance, as do guys.

There's one guy though, one that she's desperate to conquer, to have all of, to devour with wanting lips, yet she can't seem to let herself have him, pushing him away when he told the least little lie, hiding behind her natural ability to act like she doesn't have a care in the world.

She doesn't, most of the time. She doesn't have the stereotypical party-girl problems with alcohol or drugs or a desperate need for someone to save her. There's nothing to be saved from.

Brooke's in her bedroom, pale pink duvet in a heap at the end of her bed-the result of yet another hot Summer's night in Tree Hill. Her tiny pyjamas, if you could call them that, cover only inches of her lithe body in hot pink silk, her brunette hair tied loosely in a messy bun.

The only noise she can hear throughout the entire house is the waves crashing against the sand on the beach only a few yards away, and those waves aren't really a part of the house anyway. Her eyes are slightly puffy from crying-tears that have waited so long to fall on sun kissed cheeks and unusually unglossy lips.

Perhaps the tears had been self-deceiving, Lucas the final trigger for the tide of emotions that took over her the previous night, in her empty house, in her empty life. She's not stupid, she knew it was only a matter of time before something had to give, and she either turned into the hard-partying slut she's s often seen as from time to time, or the broken mess that's she's never seen as. Right now, she's guessing she's a broken mess.

Brooke looks over to the picture frame on her nightstand. The decorative beads glisten slightly as the morning sunlight pours through the blowing drapes, white cotton wafting in the breeze let in by the open balcony doors. The photograph shows her parents, too many years back when they used to spend time in Tree Hill. Together.

Now, they've split up, her father remarried to a woman whom Brooke had no problem with, yet the young bride seems to despise her husband's teenage daughter. She remembers the wedding like it was yesterday, yet she's tried to block it out for years.

She was the flower girl, hair curled with light pink hair slides in either side, only to pin a few sections back to match the bride's hair. Her dress was white, floor length with a light pink sash around the middle, and a basket of light pink rose petals to sprinkle down the isle of the church. Brooke had loved being the flower girl, was all eyes on her until her step mom walked in, and naturally, the audience's attention focused on the bride.

Brooke's father had always been important to her. She remembers when she was tiny, and he would take her to the mall each weekend if her Mom was busy, and let her pick out one outfit. When they returned home, he would watch as she pranced around his office, her dad calling her 'his little princess.'

And she remembers the arguing. She's tried to block that out too, yet it seems to be a permanent fixture in her memory, the words thrown out by her parents almost too much for a seven-year-old to bare.

When she watched her Mom walk out of the front door, her designer suitcases full of the expensive clothes she always wore, and Brooke always admired, she waited for hours, then days, then weeks for a phone call telling her that she could go visit for a holiday.

That was ten years ago. She's still waiting for a birthday card.

----

She can tell he's watching her. It might have only been weeks that she's spent with Lucas Scott, but those weeks had meant more to her than any Spring Fling Queen title. She loves his eyes. They're blue, ice blue, arguably a little cold, and definitely mysterious, but Brooke could get lost in them if she let herself.

There's something underlying behind those eyes, Brooke guesses. Something he's not telling her, something that the more she thinks about, the more she has to know what's going on. Lucas lied to her about where he was staying. A few sightings of him entering Dan Scott's house without a knock on the door, was enough to rouse her suspicions. And then Dab confirmed his living there in a single simple sentence, accompanied with a smirk, and an offer of a drink sometime. She loves Nathan, but on the whole, his father makes her feel sick.

Lucas wants an explanation as to why she's late to class, she figures. She hopes he's scrawling her a note, his terribly messy handwriting inked on a ripped piece of paper to ask her whether she wants to study history after school in his Mom's cafe. But then minutes pass. And she realises he's not going to communicate with her.

So it's Brooke that has to make the move, like she had done in the beginning, and so many more times after that. She's not opposed to being the one in control, and if she was honest, she'd admit that she prefers being in the driver's seat so-to-speak, because then she has the option to pull out whenever she wants to. She's already pulled out of her and Lucas.

_Dear Lucas,_

She's not sure where to go after that, the only thing she can decide is not to use nicknames. Brooke Davis isn't usually serious, and she's perfected the art of being cheery so well, that she's forgotten quite how to behave when portraying other emotions. It's not import though, she reasons, because people don't expect her to be anything else anyway.

He's staring at her now, almost as if he's unaware of the folded piece of paper she's slipped onto his desk. His eyes are darting quickly form side to side, and Brooke has to duck her head quickly when she feels tears for the two of them not being the same any more, pricking in her hazel eyes.

"Please Lucas?" She asks in a whisper, their teacher trying to tell a disinterested class about essay structure in order to gain good grades. Brooke figures a damn essay plan is less important than finding out about Lucas Scott's new address.

The look she gives him is somewhat reminiscent of the one he gave her only days ago, when he tried to explain about not answering her letters. When he nods slightly, she offers the smallest of smiles, her lips a little paler today due to lack of tinted gloss.

----

"I'm living with Nathan." Lucas blurts, only after she's told him that she knows the truth, and he knows she does anyway.

"But why?"

It's a question she's desperate to know the answer to, but when he shrugs and casts his eyes on the floor, Brooke knows it's a lost cause, all too aware of trying not to disclose seemingly pointless information to others.

When Lucas had asked her so many times before about her family, and why she doesn't mention them much, she had only shrugged, saying that it wasn't important. If she's honest, it's because she's embarrassed. Her real mother left and has failed to even contact her, her step mother can't stand to be around her, taking Brooke's father with her on countless business trips and exotic holidays. It doesn't paint her in a good light, Brooke decides, her own family choosing not to spend time with her, so she simply holds back the information, hiding behind a façade of cheerleading and partying and shopping.

"Look, there's this party at Duke tonight…"

"The college?" Lucas asks a little dumbly. Brooke always finds that expression cute.

"Yeah. A few of us are going to go, so if you want to come?"

She watches, her breath held a little for some unknown reason until Lucas gives her an answer.

"It's not really my thing." He tells her, hands dug into his jeans pockets to tell her that he's nervous. "But thanks."

Brooke only shrugs and raises an eyebrow. "Just thought I'd ask."

She's disappointed, but has no right to be, not really. Perhaps this whole mess, (because that's what it is,) is her fault.

He turns his back, sort of shuffling down the corridor, yet snaps back around, his eyes narrowed a little as he looks at her.

"Brooke?"

"Yeah?"

"Just…" He trails off, staring at the ground once again. And for a moment, she thinks he's going to tell her exactly what's going on. "Just be careful tonight. I mean…I know you're…You know how to party." He smiles a little, and she waits for the rest.

"But just be careful okay?"

She thinks that if she doesn't make it to the bathroom soon, so might just break down in front of him. She just wants to flings her arms around him, have him kiss her and breath her in and just tell her that everything is okay. She wants to be able to share things with him, to not feel embarrassed about the state of her family, and to have him share everything with her.

"I will." Brooke nods, followed by a trade-mark role of the eyes that he just has to chuckle at. "Thanks Luke."

----

Punching his number as fast as she can, Brooke's heart hammers in her ears as she prays that Lucas will answer her call. She guesses that while she was 'getting to know' some guy, Peyton's drink was spiked, resulting in the blonde lying half across Brooke's lap, half across the steps at the front of the building Brooke is outside of.

"I'm sorry to call Lucas, but it's Peyton…"

She doesn't even have to finish the story before he lets her know that he's on his way, telling her to stay safe until he gets there.

He hands Brooke the keys to Nathan's car, his brother and father hopefully oblivious to the fact that the black Mercedes is missing, after she tells him what she thinks happened, the expression across his face enough to tell her that he's going to find the guy that drugged Peyton's drink.

She waits in the familiar car for what seems like hours until Lucas' return, the black sky a perfect background for the silver stars. His hand is bleeding, she notices when he slams the door shut behind him, his fingers shaking when he grips the steering wheel tightly.

Neither say a word the whole ride back to Peyton's house. Brooke's embarrassed herself in front of him, and Lucas is simply too worried about her to be able to ask a normal question.

"It's all my fault." She whispers in Peyton's bedroom, tears evidently clear in her eyes as she does her best to look anywhere other than at Lucas. "I shouldn't have talked her into going, I shouldn't have left her…"

"Hey." He tries to smile in order to cheer her up. "It's not your fault, and besides, you got her out of there."

Brooke dips her head even further, and as she listens to Lucas making his way downstairs, she figures that he's too disgusted to even be in the same room with her. So she seats herself on Peyton's bed, her hand resting on top of the sheets that cover her best friend's body as she runs through any possible ways of saying thank you to Lucas when she returns to school the following morning.

But all thoughts are removed when the boy in question returns, holding two mugs of steaming coffee with a smile across his face.

"I made coffee if you want some?"

Brooke grants him a grateful smile, taking the mug from his hands as he casts a quick glance over her best friend.

"Thanks." She whispers, her voice cracking slightly. "Not just for the coffee. I mean for tonight."

Lucas shakes his head, signalling that it's no problem, yet she knows the car he came in isn't his own, and the way he looks at his watch every few minutes tells her that he most likely isn't supposed to be here.

"Why'd you call me?" He asks, catching her off guard. "Why not Nathan?"

Truth is, Nathan was supposed to go with them, yet had opted for a boys night out at some seedy strip club with Tim and a few other guys from the basketball team.

"I knew you'd come." She answers, suddenly worried about how she can predict the boy's actions within a few weeks of them spending time together.

Lucas smiles, then dips his head when he thinks she's not watching, to check his watch.

"I can look after her." Brooke says. "You get back if you want."

Lucas nods gratefully. "Living with Nathan." He begins to explain, "I should…" yet falters, rubbing the back of his neck harshly. "He's a better friend than I first thought."

"Like I said." Nods Brooke. "He's kind of an ass, but once you get to know him…"

"He's a good guy." Lucas finishes, grinning as Brooke's mouth stays open to finish the rest of her already-completed sentence.

"Yeah."

"She'll be okay Brooke." Lucas looks toward Peyton. "And it's not your fault."

----

Lying in bed, next to her best friend, Brooke smiles at the comfort left behind by a certain Lucas Scott. Sure he's not her typical guy-he doesn't hang out with the same people she does (the popular people) and he doesn't have any of the confidence that she normally finds within the guys that have made it to her bed. But he's cute, and funny in his own way, and she loves the way that she can just be (almost) her true self around him, because he won't judge her.

She loves how he wants to impress her, and how he tries hard to be the guy he _thinks _she wants him to be, only to fail and be the guy that she _really _wants him to be. And she likes that there's something mysterious about him, something that she wants to figure out, to be the one to say that she unearthed the truth about Lucas Scott.

To her, he's not transparent like most guys, but sweet, like cloudy frosting. And even though they're not together, (never were, not really) it doesn't stop her from feeling the way she does when she's around him.

But then it dawns on her. Lucas _Scott_. Nathan _Scott_. Dan _Scott_. And Brooke realises that what she thought was cloudy frosting, may not be so cloudy after all.

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Please review guys, love Gracie xxx 


	14. Coconut Shade

**A/N- **Firstly, thank you to those of you who reviewed last chapter :) and secondly, some of you were kinda confused as to why I posted it twice. I accidently clicked delete instead of edit, and so I had to repost. There is only one more chapter left in this story after this one, and then it's on with the next story! Anyways, hope you enjoy, and please review at the end :) xxx

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**Bubblegum Cherry Pie**

Chapter 14: Coconut Shade

"So you're living with Nathan?" Brooke asks with inquisitive eyes and a raised eyebrow that is making Lucas more than nervous. It doesn't help that her body is less than a couple feet away, covered partially by a skimpy cheerleading uniform and long brown hair.

"Um…" He dips his head, partly to avoid her eyes because he knows if he looks at hers for too long, she might break him. Then there would be too much to tell, and too much information for her to be able to like him. "It's a long story." He finishes, bringing his head up only to watch Brooke twist her hair into a messy bun.

He's more than glad of Whitey shouting at him to return to the basketball practise he's supposed to be joining in with.

"Guess that's you." She smiles with a little wink. He's safe for now. "Bye gorgeous."

Lay-up drills are the least thing on Lucas' mind. Avoiding Brooke's questions seems to be near impossible, and knowing that she's a few seconds walk away from his bedroom (the one that he cried liquorice tears over her in) makes it even harder not to run down that road and tell her everything.

But he doesn't, because he daren't embarrass himself in front of her. Her world is perfect, and he doesn't want to bring his reality crashing in.

During breaks from banging the ball against the back board, or in some lucky cases, actually getting it through the net, Lucas watches Brooke instruct her cheerleaders on how to hold their bodies steady when completing a pyramid, and the importance of a straight back during the splits.

He loves how she pouts her lips at her own performance, and how every so often, she'll give up a smile for the girl who's working the hardest, or for one of the younger girls, who can't quite get the half turn in before her back flip. She's always happy, he notes, and even though she's not his now, (though he can't let himself believe that she ever was) he'll always think of her as the cheery to his broody, the pretty girl to his unkempt style.

----

"Scott." Whitey barks, then realises there are now two on his team. "Lucas, hit the showers."

He hangs his head in shame, his blue eyes staying away from the disapproving looks from Whitey and some of the team. Lucas shrugs it off. His mind's elsewhere.

He hears something of a sniffle, a stifled sob hidden away by some sort of material pressed to lips, he guesses. He's an expert at quietened crying, he had to be. Nobody cries in Dan Scott's house.

Lucas only looks back when he catches a glimpse of a tiny cheerleading uniform and shiny hair. It's Brooke, cell phone held loosely to her ear as she nods her head at nobody in particular. She doesn't know he's there.

"But you said you were coming back this weekend."

He guesses it's some guy that she met after whatever it was between the two of them ended. Maybe she met him before. Lucas isn't sure he wants to know, and he's not supposed to care anyway. Brooke Penelope Davis is now merely a distant dream to him.

"I know." She sniffs, obviously trying to disguise the tears that are falling down now beautifully freckled skin. "Yeah it's fine."

Lucas isn't sure when she came into the girl's locker room, or even why she left the door open, but he figures it must have been sometime during the instruction of a new defence system Whitey was shouting. He feels guilty for being there, for trying to figure out what might be the cause of her tears, and who might be on the other end of the line. Still, he can't force himself to move and head in the direction of his own locker room.

"I'll see you some time soon then." She whispers softly. It's quiet for a few seconds, and then it seems like Brooke questions her own sentence. "Right?"

Lucas can only watch as the brunette hangs her head a little lower, and a few wispy strands poke out from high pony tail.

"Bye."

He's in the boys' locker room before Brooke can even emerge from hers, with a fake smile and hastily re-applied make up.

----

There's a party at Nathan's house tonight, _his _house. Nathan didn't tell him, he's only found out by over-hearing a few conversations in the corridors between lessons and lunch. Lucas wonders whether he's supposed to attend, or whether he should just hide himself away in his room, shut out from prying eyes and the prospect of either no Brooke, or the old Brooke that he's heard about so often through the gossip mill of Tree Hill High.

He can hear Dan and Deb leaving, the giggling of the woman who should have been his mother making him feel physically sick. They're going away for the weekend, on one of Dan's business trips to do with his dealership, and as it's at some resort in Palm Springs, he's allowed one guest. Lucas laughs ironically to himself as the usually absent Deb has managed to be present for a free trip to the West Coast.

"Sorry I didn't tell you man." Nathan tells Lucas as he pushes the couch to the edge of the room with barely any effort. "I guess I kinda just forgot."

Lucas shrugs. Better to be left alone than bullied by the brother who could potentially be Dan's successor, he figures. "I think I'm just gonna stay in my room tonight. Catch up on some schoolwork."

Nathan frowns, but nods. "Okay, and you can always take a couple bottles up with you." His eyes scan to the drinks table, on which is an already ridiculous amount of vodka and beer bottles. He can only guess that maybe there isn't a keg tonight.

"Thanks." He grants Nathan a half smile. "But I think I might pass."

He's almost out of the room before Nathan calls him back. "Hey Lucas. I'm sorry about how screwed up this whole thing is." He shrugs. "I don't really know what's happened, but I'm sorry."

Lucas smiles at him, simply nodding in agreement as the two brothers realise that nothing else has to be said. He's more than grateful for Nathan having turned out nothing like their father, and guesses that life can't have been particularly good for him either.

----

Catching up on human biology isn't quite as easy as Lucas had anticipated, not when he can hear music thumping downstairs and obviously a couple in the guest bedroom next door. Even turning on his Ipod hasn't been enough to drown out the party below him, and thoughts of Brooke's earlier phone call keep penetrating his thoughts anyway.

He wonders whether she's here tonight. Not normally one to miss a party, Lucas guesses that Brooke might be on the 'dance floor' right now, the dance floor being the centre of the living room, speakers booming throughout the whole house. He guesses she'll have come here with Peyton, or at least a couple or more members of the cheerleading squad. The majority of the girls, at least the older ones, are frequent party whores, drinking copious amounts of vodka mixed with barely any cola or fruit juice. Still, Lucas isn't one to judge, and finds himself admiring the way that they can all let go and simply enjoy their night.

He curses his body for requesting him to take a trip to the bathroom, and upon doing so, Lucas stumbles across a certain Brooke Davis on his return. She's perched on the end of a guest bed-not the one next door to his room, but across the hallway, biting her glossy lip as she quickly wipes at the tears that had previously laid on her cheeks.

"Brooke?" He asks, questioning her to tell him what's wrong. He spies the back of some guy doing up the buckle on his belt at the top of the stairs, unable to identify him when he looks back in the direction of Brooke with some sort of disgusted look on his face.

"I'm fine." She snaps before Lucas can even ask anything. She's not fine though. That tone and the darkened tears, stained with mascara and eyeliner tell him that, and the way she has her arms pulled across her chest, hiding any glimpse of inviting skin scream that she's anything but okay.

"Did he try to…"

"No." Brooke's eyes widen as she realises what Lucas is asking, interrupting him before he finishes his question. He's glad then, because if she'd said yes, he's not sure what he might have done.

"You look stunning." Lucas tells her, smiling slightly as she rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, my face is covered in mascara and my hair's a mess."

He shakes his head. "Your hair is perfect." He's not lying. He loves Brooke's hair when it's slightly messy, not styled to perfection like it so often is. It reminds him of the time they slept in the department store, and when he woke up next to her, a few strands of perfectly-conditioned hair tickling his neck.

She's wearing jeans tonight, dark rinse, almost black, with gold stitching up the side. Her top is gold too, silk, with a lace trim on the shoulders, and golden nail polish to identify her toes in black peep-toes.

"What are you doing here Lucas?" She almost sighs, like she doesn't believe what he's saying.

"I just came back from the bathroom."

"No, I mean, _here, _at Dan Scott's house."

"There's a guest room here." A voice interrupts, and Lucas thanks God that right now, he doesn't have to explain anything to Brooke. "Oh…"

The edges of his lips curl into a small smile as he recognises one of his basketball teams mates looking expectantly at the bed Brooke is sitting on.

"It's okay, we're just going." Lucas tells him, Brooke's eyes staring back at him as he nods in the direction of his own room.

----

They haven't said anything to each other, not since Brooke settled herself on Lucas' bed, and he took his place on the chair by his set of drawers. He's happy to simply watch as she scans his bed-side reading collection, wrinkling her nose up at the titles she either doesn't know, or finds seemingly boring.

"Are you okay Brooke?" He asks softly. "Really?"

He doesn't want to bring up the phone conversation he overheard, because then it would appear that he had been eavesdropping. He guesses he has though, but he's not ready to tell her that, and he's not sure whether he'd like the answer.

She nods, somewhat sadly, her eyes focusing on anything but his. "That guy I was in the room with, I didn't…" She trails off. "We didn't…"

"It's okay." Lucas shrugs. "It's none of my business anyway."

"I just wanted you to know." Brooke tells him. "I don't want to be like that."

"You're not like that." Lucas replies confidently.

He watches as she gets off the bed, straightening her clothes and smoothing her hair before making her way over to him. When she presses soft lips against his cheek, brushing with stubble and light cologne, he breaths in her coconut scent, eyes shinning to learn that when his open, hers are still closed for a couple more seconds.

"I should go back to the party." She tells him, no more questioning about what he's doing here, or why he's not joining them.

Lucas only nods, involuntarily squinting his eyes as he silently tries to figure out what it is that she's keeping from him.

She's gone, leaving him none-the-wiser as to the cause of her earlier tears, and tonight's sadness. He sinks his head into the pillow, comforted by Brooke's scent and the creases she's left in the bed linen. She's weaving a coconut shade over him and Lucas is damned if he doesn't break it.

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Please review guys xxx 


	15. Bubblegum Cherry Pie

**A/N- **As always guys, thank you so much for your lovely reviews :) Here it is…the last chapter dun dun dun lol. Don't forget to look out for my next story called 'These Arms' which I'll be posting within the next couple days. Check out the prologue for the full summary because I can't fit what I want to write into the allocated space given by ff. :)

For the last time, I hope you enjoy and pretty please review at the end :)

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Chapter 15: Bubblegum Cherry Pie

Lucas likes to spend his Summers at the River Court. Long, hot days consist of two-on-two with Skillz, Fergie and Junk, with Mouth as commentator, often followed by a night of good rest, ready for the next day. They don't have bonds over family issues, or distinct interests other than basketball, and conversations don't arise often. They don't hang out with each other on evenings, and even though both Lucas and Skillz play on the school basketball team, their surroundings away from the court are entirely different.

But today, arriving at the court an expecting to find Fergie waiting around for the rest of them, bouncing the ball half-heartedly or simply chatting to mouth about sports announcing, (the smaller guy's passion) Lucas is surprised and ultimately shocked to discover his Mom stood there, television cameras pointed in front of her as she tells of her plans to turn the concrete basketball court into a small picnic area, complete with wild flowers and trees flown from further south.

He shakes his head, fists clenched as his own Mother looks on at the guys his own age talking among themselves, clutching their ball as if it might be pulled away from them in a couple seconds.

"Isn't that your son?" Lucas hears one of the many presenters ask, their respective camera men whirling around apparatus in order to get a shot of the confused teenager.

"Mom?" He questions, the guys silencing themselves to hear whether their team mate has anything to do with this.

Karen turns herself away from the rolling cameras, her eyes narrowed at her son as she looks him up and down. "Lucas I'm in the middle of a _live _broadcast." She stresses, her expression obviously annoyed.

"You can't turn this court into a God damn picnic area!" He snaps, oblivious to the cameras inching closer.

"This doesn't concern you Lucas, just go to your Father's." Karen instructs, forcing a smile as she turns back to the cameras.

He too, turns to the cameras, letting his Mother's words fall on deaf ears. "I play ball here. _We all _play ball here. Tree Hill doesn't need a picnic area."

Attempting to ignore him, Karen continues her broadcast. "Not only would the upkeep of this area create a couple new jobs, but it would also bring in revenue if say, there was to be a small ice cream stall open up. Tourists or even day-trippers from the city would be attracted to this spot if we could remove the concrete and allow grass to grow."

"There are already a few benches." Lucas cuts in. "The last thing Tree Hill needs is a picnic area. We spend so much time here, parents teach their kids to play ball, and it might now mean anything to you." Lucas swallows, the realisation that he's now appearing on national television hitting him. "But it means something to us."

He's echoed by agreement from Fergie, Junk, Skillz and Mouth, and smiles a little at the encouragement.

They listen as the presenters step into the camera, all with different words for their networks. But one main thing seems to be constant among them, Lucas hears. Karen Scott might have a battle on her hands.

----

"That was some speech you made." Dan muses as Lucas enters the house he's now forced to call home, the familiar scent of whisky evident in the hallway. He's not surprised at Nathan's appetite for drinking, especially as a product of Dan and Deb, members of Tree Hill's elite heavy drinkers club.

He can't find any words to retaliate, so makes his way to the refrigerator in order to retrieve the soda he came for.

"What's up? You all out of words?"

"No." Lucas shrugs. "I just don't like the waste them on things that don't matter."

"So you're a smartass?" He smirks, newspaper on the table in front of him. "You know I could throw you out. You're not my responsibility."

"So throw me out." He shrugs.

Dan purses his lips as Lucas chugs from the can, staring at him intently. "Don't push me Lucas."

The blonde-haired boy simply raises an eyebrow as he throws the remnants of the soda can along with it in the trash, before exiting the room, replying with a small smirk. "By the way, I became your responsibility when you knocked up my Mom."

He's all over the news. He can hear it through the walls of his room, the noise filtering from Nathan's bedroom across the hallway. His Mom's campaign is in jeopardy, with many viewers calling in to say that they would rather have the River Court as somewhere for their children to play ball.

A small smile of satisfaction crosses Lucas' lips, his mind momentarily off of Brooke Davis. Since the end of the school semester, he hasn't so much as heard from her, and not one of the text messages he has sent her has been returned.

Perhaps she's vacationing, he guesses, somewhere exotic no doubt, with her lying on the beach in a tiny bikini, completing the picture-perfect postcard of a Summer vacation. He imagines her having more freckles now, on her shoulders as well as her cheeks. Her hair will be beautifully tousled from the mixture of humidity and sea salt, and she'll wear nothing but bright beachwear and multi-coloured jewellery.

His fingers tremble to touch her hair now, to trace the outline of her tank top, perhaps a black lace bra strap visible. His lips are moist, toes twitching to simply lay next to her, talking about Seth and Summer's brilliantly incompatible relationship on The O.C, or why she might buy that Chanel nail polish she's been wanting for so long. Maybe they'd chat about the heat that's surrounded their small town lately, and she'd scold him for not exposing his chest to the sunlight when on the beach, even though the t-shirt he's wearing is nice enough.

And then his heart sinks, because if Brooke's watched this broadcast, she's halfway to figuring things out, and she'll be too embarrassed to talk to him. She's the queen bee at Tree Hill High, Lucas knows that. Teenagers judge all-to-easily, and if he's done anything to dissolve her status, he's not sure he can forgive himself. She doesn't deserve to cry any more tears.

----

Lucas wakes to find the small pink envelope beside his door. He knows that handwriting by now-the slight lilt to the left along with a small flick at the end of each word is a Brooke Davis trademark, and his fingers burn to rip open the paper. He wonders whether she spritzs the paper with her perfume, because every single letter she's sent him smells of her. She smells like vanilla and coconut and strawberries, with chocolate hair and cotton candy wisps.

It tells him that she's sorry, not just for her behaviour, but for the tears and the broadcast she saw on the news. She tells him that he's more than special, and that she hopes he has a great Summer. It won't be a great Summer without her, Lucas thinks. She's the only thing that's made this semester worthwhile.

She signs it _'lots of love, Brooke' _and Lucas finds his lips, not curving into a smile, but trembling, because there's no indication that she'll be around him in the future.

There's no time inked onto the paper, no indication of when she posted the letter through the gap between his door and the carpet, or even whether she came here herself. Perhaps she handed it to Nathan, asking him to do what she couldn't, or simply didn't have time to, or maybe Peyton brought it on her way to Nathan's room, soft steps for fear of Dan hearing her.

He wonders whether, if she's not on vacation right now, she's heading to the airport, chic sunglasses covering hazel eyes, hair blowing in the breeze let in by the open window of the cab. Possibly, she's already at the airport, suitcase stood by impatient feet as she waits by the big screen for her flight information, or a member of staff collecting boarding passes is taking too long.

Brooke Davis is never patient. Lucas loves that.

Maybe her Father owns a boat, and she's sunning herself on it right now, moored in some exquisite marina somewhere, or floating in the deep Atlantic ocean, sun high in the sky to cast a perfect shadow to protect her from the harmful rays.

Lucas doesn't want to ask Nathan about the letter. He might laugh, or worse, feel sorry for him, knowing that all along, Brooke wouldn't make the two of them into the relationship Lucas so desperately wants. He won't ask Dan, because he means nothing, and he doesn't want to associate someone like that with someone who means everything to him.

His legs jerk for him to get up, to walk to Brooke's house just down the street, different for its red door among the many black. Brooke loves red. Lucas just loves the way she looks in red.

----

He can't take it any more. It's night now, the road illuminated by street lamps, the beach visible by dim moonlight as Lucas almost runs to Brooke's house, the letter in his hand for proof that maybe she wants him there, even though she won't admit that.

After two attempts of ringing the doorbell and receiving no answer, Lucas tries the handle, his heart leaping to find that the door is open, so in fact, she must still be in the town.

"Brooke?" He shouts, loud enough for her to hear, even in a house as big as the one she occupies. He notes the pristine floor tiles, and the cushions so delicately placed on the couch in the living room, making it look as though nobody even lives there at all.

"Brooke?" Lucas asks again, making his way up the huge staircase, identical to that in Dan's hallway. They're the only two rooms that are lit, no family portraits on the walls like he had expected for some reason. The wooden stairs don't so much as creak as Lucas reaches the landing, soft cream carpet beneath his feet.

"I can't find the light switch, so if you're here, can you let me know?" He asks again, voice raised but starting to crack as too many reasons for her not answering him run through his mind.

Four bedrooms later, and Lucas still hasn't encountered the girl he's looking for. Reaching what he guesses is her room, judging only by the pink sheets he half-expected her to have, and that familiar scent he loves so much. Still no Brooke though, and it's only when he reaches the balcony doors, light cotton drapes blowing in the night air, that he spies her, down on the beach, a small cove, adjacent to her back yard.

----

"Hey." He says softly as he crouches down beside her, feet sinking into the sand that's gone cold from lack of sunlight. Brooke's legs are pulled to her chest, arms drawn around them as she barely turns her head to see him, but offers the smallest, quietest of replies.

"Hey."

"Are you okay?" He asks, knowing the answer, whether she admits it or not tonight, is most definitely no.

She shakes her head, almost rocking herself back and forward like a small child. He notes the goose bumps on her arms, uncovered by the navy tank top she's wearing.

"I got your letter." He holds up the envelope with one hand, giving her a tight smile, a nervous smile because this is the only time he's spoken to her when she's not been his cheery.

"And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you on the news yesterday." Lucas dips his head, ashamed for her, yet in a way, proud for himself.

Now she looks up, eyes questioning him. "Why would you have embarrassed me?"

"People have seen you with me, I practically destroy my Mom's chances of winning her campaign so that I can still play ball on that stupid River Court…"

"It's not a stupid River Court." She says. "Peyton and I used to hang out there all the time. And like you said, parents teach their kids to play ball there."

He smiles, his first real smile that evening as she looks up at him, her eyes shinning, not with happiness he can tell, but with tears. "Maybe we should go inside. It's getting kinda cold out here."

Offering his hand, Lucas nods a little when Brooke accepts it, biting her lip as he helps her up from the sand.

When they make it inside, she offers him coffee or hot chocolate or anything from her refrigerator. He declines, saying thank you, but he's not thirsty. Brooke only shrugs, pressing her body into the work surface as though it might swallow her, the kitchen silent as they both work out what to say.

"I figured something out the other day." She tells him softly. "Dan's your father, isn't he?"

He can't lie to her, not now. So Lucas simply nods, humiliated, not by Brooke, but by himself, for trying to disguise something he knew he couldn't, not really.

"So I guessed that, and then I spent all night thinking about why you might have kept it a secret." She says, fingers drumming on the counter. "But I couldn't."

"You know." Lucas begins, his voice low as he moves a little closer, perhaps subconsciously aware that someone might be listening. "I saw you crying at school, before we broke up for the Summer, and then again at Nathan's party. You said you were fine."

He watches her eyes, as they flick to the floor, and then every wall but the one facing her. "And now you sent me that letter, and you're alone at night on the beach."

Brooke shakes her head. "That's not how it works Lucas. If I ask you something about your life, you can't just change the subject by talking about mine."

"Okay." He replies. "So if I tell you why I kept Dan a secret, will you tell me what makes you cry?"

"Besides sad movies?" She asks, eyebrow raised in the first sarcastic moment that evening.

"I'm being serious."

Brooke nods, eyes meeting his. "Okay."

----

"So Dan got your Mom pregnant right after high school." Brooke clarifies. "That still doesn't explain why you didn't tell anyone about him.

Lucas sighs a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "My Uncle Keith, the one you saw at school that morning, he kinda always had a thing for my Mom. One day, Dan walked in on them in bed together, not long after she'd had me." He tells Brooke. "He'd had to give up a basketball scholarship because my Mom had said he had to do the right thing and help raise me. Then she got sick. Said it was that post-partum depression that new mothers sometimes got, and that Dan had to look after me while she got better." He takes a breath, offering Brooke a small smile. "I didn't go back to live with her until I was eleven."

"And he just married Deb?"

"I used to hear them on a night sometimes, arguing. She used to say that he was only married to her because my Mom had gotten bored, and she was second best. But she didn't leave, because they had Nathan together, and even if he didn't love her quite as much as he probably should have, she still loved him." Lucas shrugs. "I didn't want to ruin my Mom's campaign by allowing people to find out about her affair. It doesn't look good for a potential mayor to play her part in infidelity. Pretty screwed up huh?" He half-laughs.

Brooke's not sure what to say.

"I'm sorry Lucas." Is all she can manage, her hand rubbing his arm gently, as if to sooth him. It doesn't matter now, he figures. He's been hardened off to any kind of pain, and the only kind he feels anymore is when she's not around. He had to come tonight, he's not sure he could manage if she wasn't around this Summer.

"It's fine." He shrugs. "Really."

"So why didn't you tell me?" She asks.

"I just…I was embarrassed, and I didn't want you to think I was some kind of loser that nobody wants to be around…" Lucas trails off, his voice much quieter. "Because then you might have stopped hanging out with me and I wasn't sure I was ready to go back to life before I knew you. I know it's stupid but…"

"It's not stupid." Brooke interrupts, her light laugh filling the room for a second or two.

It's quiet again for almost too long, Lucas playing with the hem of his shirt as Brooke bites her bottom lip. It's free from gloss and any kind of colour, and her eyes are staring at the floor, contemplating what to say next.

"So are you going to tell me why I saw you crying?" Lucas asks. "Or do I need to turn detective?"

She giggles a little, making Lucas smile at the sight of those dimples etched onto the side of her face.

"Tell me pretty girl."

Her eyes cloud over, and she shakes her head as she begins to talk, feeling a little more than embarrassed. "I know it sounds stupid, but I…I miss my Dad. He used to be around all the time, and then when he got married again, my step mom kinda…she doesn't like me. I was the flower girl at their wedding." She remembers. "I was so proud, because I got to walk up the isle and show off my Daddy to everyone in that church. And I liked her, I really did. But she thought I was spoiled and that first Christmas I spent without my dad because she had taken him away to some cabin somewhere…I started hating her."

"What about your Mom?" Lucas asks.

"She left when I was seven. Didn't write, didn't call. She didn't even send me a birthday card. It's bad enough one parents leaves, but then for the other to spend more time working or vacationing or living in another state than at home, it can't say much about me can it?"

She cries then, quietly, a hand to her mouth as tears creep out from her closed eyelids. Lucas wonders if the world is blind to her, because to him, Brooke Davis is worth every second of his attention.

"They don't know what they've missed." He tells her, a hand on her shoulder to pull her closer until she's resting her head on his chest, her eyes closed as she strokes her hair with one hand, the other wrapped around her body. He feels bad that he can't relate to loving your parents and them not loving you back. He hasn't felt love for his Mom or Keith or Dan for as long as he can remember.

"I'm sorry." She mumbles into the material of his shirt before pulling her head away slightly, her eyes looking up at him. "I was embarrassed, and I didn't want you to think that I would drive you away too. And then I wrote you that letter and I guess I pushed you away anyway…"

She doesn't finish before Lucas tilts her chin upwards, pressing his lips against hers, tasting the sweetness that he's craved for so long. Her fingers are clenching his shirt, grabbing as she presses herself into him further, and his lips move faster, more urgently until Brooke backs up, bringing him with her as they leave the kitchen, up the stairs and to the bedroom he was in only moments ago.

She rids herself of the tank top she's wearing, a little slowly as Lucas follows suit with his own shirt. She kisses him again then, his hands pinning her hair back behind her ears as she falls, the bed below her as she brings him down too, his arms strong to stop his weight from crushing her.

Her hands travel to the belt of his jeans, which he's still wearing, even though it's Summer and hot, and she's told him countless times to wear shorts. She smiles, her tongue quick to take its place back with his as she pushes the jeans down with ease, Lucas able to move them onto the floor. It's his turn then, for her, his fingers inexpertly undoing the button on her skirt. Brooke's able to slip it off quickly, fingering the hemline of his boxers as his own fingers move to the white lace of her bra.

Slipping the first strap down, he plants a tiny butterfly kiss on her shoulder, repeated again on the other shoulder and all across her collar bone as she simply breathes him in. His kisses slow, his lips travelling down her stomach to the material of the lingerie she's wearing. Lucas lets out his breath as his fingers trace the outline of her tattoo, the one that matches his, before placing delicate kisses all the way back up her skin, leaving no part of her untouched.

She tastes like bubblegum and cherry pie at the same time. And Lucas knows that he's in love with her.

* * *

THE END!!!!!!!!!

I have to admit, I feel quite sad after finishing this story. But that could also be to do with the fact that I've just watched the notebook for like the millionth time!

Hope you've enjoyed this story, and please review.

Lots of love, Gracie xxx


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